I see kindness
as sunbeams spreading
on a sleepy forest floor, sparking life
on critters, light reaching and cracking open
a yawn—
squeals, screeches!
A crackle—
scampering on dead leaves!
A hoot here, a whoosh there
To listen closer is to hear singing.
Kindness comes in gentle, warm rays
and songs in the language of birds
Or, in blunt-speak, it comes in
how you put a trace of a smile on written messages
or do your best to convey a hug through digital space
The closest I could catch a sunbeam with my hands
is in surprising moments when you ask: “How are you doing?”
Night turns into day. The air is a jar of pleasant noises.
You’re kind.
And I’m happy I’m alive.
