The Five

I want you to see the things I see. Can you see behind the eyes... behind the confused look of a stranger… inside of the soul of a sleeping child… can you see the faint reflection in the glass that separates the outside from the in… can you see the hidden beauty in the frost or in the rain… can you see the wind as it drags the hopes and dreams of a new season… can you see the future in the light of youth… the youth that will do the things that we leave undone?

I want you to hear the things I hear. Can you hear the purr of an infant as it is consumed within the warmth of its mother’s arms… can you hear the sound of the train that falls through the morning mist of your dreams… can you hear the warmth of the giggles of the children while they play in the quiet… can you hear the leaves of the fall season as they pinball in slow motion to the ground… can you hear the soft call of the dove… the call that has imprinted itself in your memory?

I want you to feel the things I feel. Can you feel my touch in the dark… the touch of comfort or a touch when a moment in time pulls us together… can you feel the glow of a winter fire… it pulls within it, the aromas of winter… can you feel the pride that surrounds me as I watch you succeed in your goals… can you feel a look across a crowded room… can you feel the emotions of a stranger… a stranger that is unaware of your intuition?

I want you to taste the things I taste. Can you taste the warm coffee that fills the house with the aromas of my mornings… the aromas of tall chairs against a farmhouse table filled with the breakfasts of my grandmother… can you taste the salt of my skin… the taste of the labor of my brow, and of the tears of sadness?

I want you to smell the things I smell. Can you smell the sweet grass in the cool nights of spring… can you smell the deep, rich soil that I look for in city streets… the streets that release steam after a summer rain shower… can you smell the joy in the air after the crisp splashes of water from a child’s pool… can you smell the jasmine that gives away its hiding place with every puff of fragrant air?

These are the things of our daily lives… the things worth pausing for… the things we take for granted. These are the details that surround me…

                                                          Shannon R Killman