The mundane tasks of everyday living
create a sense of tranquility
that stretches out like a
placid lake reaching for the horizon,
each day the same as the one before
and the one to come.
The monotony of routine and habit
can lull me into believing that the future
will be made up of days like these.
I can sometimes tire of the monotony,
almost wishing for an interruption in the predictable—
until one inevitably comes along,
jolting me out of languid days and tossing me about
like a small boat caught in a storm.
And then I crave the sameness that had been,
the predictability of a daily routine.
I long to return to those times
when I could anticipate how each day would unfold,
when there were no surprises and
I could spend hours daydreaming about future travel or
gathering with friends.
I cannot stop or wish away these unwelcome interruptions.
I can only take comfort in knowing
that the turbulence will end and
calm will return.