He Sings

He sings…Pavoratti

In the middle of the morning

For no apparent reason

I can fathom

He must be happy

So it would seem

To those of us who hide in cubicles

Completing  joyless tasks

Bitching and moaning

About nothing or less.

What wonder…

Some souls are joyful

No matter the mission or task

And wasn’t it Abraham Lincoln who said,

“…that most folks are just about as

happy as they want to be.”

Souls exuding the awe of life

Through their skin

While carrying a ladder

Or cleaning an oven

He sings…

In the middle of the afternoon

Fixing this or that

Music of times past and days gone

Of high school and other lives

What wonder…

I wonder

What it might be like

To have someone walking

Walking through my lonely life

Daily with songs like his.