Gratitude

"It's not about getting there,
It's about the journey."

They say that.

Everyone says it, over and over,
like they believe it & know what it means
and then they laugh.

But what do they mean?

Do they mean that it is about this moment 
right now?  This poem
happening right
here

&

not the one that came out of me yesterday complete
and contained within itself and perfect

Until it was lost like a Seifenblase
bursting in the air just next to your face
leaving nothing but the memory of its 
shiny
floating 
rediculousness

And a couple of drops of water on your ear and
fingers.

It was a perfect poem.

I saw it and knew it and it disappeared.

Strange that the perfection remains still intact.

That one moment of knowing it to be perfect.

​I am grateful.