Breathless
Sameen Shakya

My grandfather, on morning walks, would say

That God is heard at dawn, for every day

He recreates his first act in the shape

Of sunrises. Yes. So, he would tell me

How despite its been billions of years we

Still have front row seats to the majesty

Of creation. I half-listened. For I,

By this point, had heard this speech many times

Spun, and I was too focused on the climb

Up that hill nearest to our house. Grand dad

Was adamant to get the best view, and,

Though I complained, when at the top I stand

And watch the night’s blue break into red rose

That then turns to orange fire I suppose

I get it, that I’m seeing the cosmos.

But really, that what left me breathless was

The joy in his eyes, which would give me pause

Each time. Then I’d turn eastward and thank God.