Otherwise by Jane Kenyon

Jane Kenyon

Otherwise by Jane Kenyon

T.

I can’t sleep. I can’t remember the last time I was able to stop, breathe, and just enjoy the moment. To be — just be. To be just me. And be happy with that. So tonight, while I wait to fall asleep, this is what I’ll be doing. I am lying in bed, staring up the ceiling, summoning all the joy I have for being here, and for being me.

Otherwise

Jane Kenyon

I got out of bed

on two strong legs.

It might have been

otherwise. I ate

cereal, sweet

milk, ripe, flawless

peach. It might

have been otherwise.

I took the dog uphill

to the birch wood.

All morning I did

the work I love.

At noon I lay down

with my mate. It might

have been otherwise.

We ate dinner together

at a table with silver

candlesticks. It might

have been otherwise.

I slept in a bed

in a room with paintings

on the walls, and

planned another day

just like this day.

But one day, I know,

it will be otherwise.

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poetry