Watching our cats
as they watch the bats
soar across sunset, I get

an inkling
of why
we switch on TV.

To see the world
through another’s body

the burden
of choosing focus,

our wrestling senses.
When cicadas screech
and trees roar tangerine,

do I look, listen
or drink
from my skin?

I almost
turn away.

Oh, blessed
lift of a silver chin
dart of a pearl whisker

decision made, filter selected
life framed … yet
not stilled;   alert   steadied.

Boundless presence
can be borne, when we’re led
by a lens with lungs.


I offer this as week 3 of Bernadette Haddon’s thankfulness quest.