Blink. Blink and you might miss it.
Lavender wisp of sunset intertwined
with gold. Rustle in the grass. Streak
of bird. The momentary reflection
when the angle of light reflects off
an ornately spun spiderweb. Blue throat
of pinyon jay. Pearls of water
splashing in the sun. On the highway,
you crossed into the left lane
when you saw the black car parked
on the shoulder. Then we both saw the young
father carefully walking back towards
the parked car, arms clutching his
young child tightly against his chest.
And just a few paces behind him:
a mile marker, a simple roadside cross.
We too are stardust, traveling with the speed
of light, and we don’t even
know it.