Easy

It is easy to be thankful,

and bask in the

simple glory

of my mortality.

It is easy to feel

the holy truth of

my own existence

bear down upon

me, and stop just short

enough that I can feel its

hot breath mix with

my own.

To look my life in

the eyes, and

say, "That's me," and

nothing else?

Yes, this too is easy.

And yet, I find all of this easiness

so incredibly and

decidedly difficult.