It always happens on the first day
the gift of no expectation, no experience
to let the rain fall in advance
or the sunshine raise your spirit
it’s the flow of gentle events unfolding
the cat in the chair, curling up to play
the sea engulfing your body with the taste of dried salt
or the music read by the poet
giving back the rhythm and rhyme of life
in all its imperfection
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Place of inspiration: Maputo is just one of those places where you need to stare at the moon once, or twice or maybe even more
illwriteuapoem 
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