The barista informs me,
with a smile as radiant as the sun,
that my coffee will take four minutes to be ready –
time for the infusion to do its thing.
Meanwhile, I listen to this cumbia,
“walking down this street non-stop
from top to bottom,”
param pam pam.
I decide to capture this moment in verses,
gazing at the cloudy sky,
the white house with blue doors,
the flooded stones beneath my feet.
“He’s drunk, walking drunk,”
echoes the cumbia, param pam pam.
I know this instant is ephemeral,
like the waves that kiss the shore and leave.
An elderly couple advances over the stones,
a fleeting interruption in my poem,
param pam pam.
Their intertwined hands, caressed by many springs,
their steps firm, still full of life.
This moment is simple, nothing extraordinary,
but in its simplicity lies beauty.
May life be lived as it is, without pretense,
and may fullness arise from the heart.
