Microvision- A Poem

Some days I feel like a line cook staring at a row of tickets,

Not sure which one to do first

Or if I really can do any of them at all.

I stand, frozen- one hand holding a spatula

Or a computer

Or a pair of mismatched socks

And the other not sure what to do next.

In this moment of nothing but tasks,

My brain, predictably, zooms out dizzyingly quick

So that I can't see the tickets anymore-

Only stars, and worlds, and lifetimes

As if to say, "What are you doing

Any of this for, anyway? Shouldn't you be

Doing something that matters?"

But, before I get lost in space

I, predictably, twist the lens and zoom back in,

And fold the laundry into little piles

So that love can be felt on skin.

I stir the food and plan the meals

So that love can be tasted and experienced.

I sit people on my couch and remind them of their truth

So that love can heal and empower.

Perhaps, at least sometimes, nothing matters more

Than tending to each other's hearts.