In Mundane Things

 

1

 

Cutting grass, a chore,

Yet it can be so much more

 

Music in headphones,

Sunlight flickering

Motor humming

Squirrels bickering

 

And I am in the flowing

Part of without knowing

 

Muscles flex under load

Pushing as the grass blowing

And still the quiet remains

Among the chore ongoing

 

I am not the doer

But I am the doing

And it is done, it is always done.

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