Daily human lived a rural existence
in meadows and mangroves at dawn and sunrise,
making occasional visits to the town and so-called city.
During her last visit there,
she was reminded of how isolating it could feel
to feel different, and thought
of how her outlook had changed about herself and others.
Adulthood, which we were doomed and blessed
to live most of our living lives, was a long one,
so full of twists and turns,
pitfalls and scenic stops,
that she couldn't help but think
how much being an adult taught you about yourself,
about the need to carve your own space,
and how every passing year,
however good or bad it may have been,
was a patient, steadfast teacher.
The life she wanted wasn't
the one she dreamt about
when she closed her eyes at night
or the one she saw play out as she fell asleep
on the bus ride home from work.
It was when her eyes were wide open,
immersing in the hustle and bustle of the everyday -
a young mother working two jobs to provide just enough for her two kids,
the elderly man passing by in his van with no one to talk to,
the immigrant on his bicycle not sure his contract would be renewed
and what that would mean to him,
a middle-aged woman finding her corporate place,
people struggling to make ends meet, on repeat.
She loved everything she saw with her eyes open;
it was everything she wrote about; life.
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