here, now

somewhere
in this grumble
of noises
in an expectant womb -
the crackle of bubble-wrap
rolling in busy hands,
the cackle of an eleven year old
immersed in a blissful self-forgetting,
the ordinariness
of a neighbour's doorbell
swiveling my attention,
the flick of a spoon
landing anyhow
against hot metal,
the soft thud of boxes
stripped and sealed,
and the silent whisper
of the ocean from afar,
always awake
to her presence and absence,
moves a lightness,
an innocence,
a sparkle,
of simply being,
here, now.