The joy of being alive

is the joy of

seeing the wind

move through my laundry

on my balcony

while cars

in the street

and hammering

from the construction site nearby.


Yet still the wind

blows through my shirts

a pair of pants.


They move

like nothing ever did

and nothing ever will

like it did

this moment

while cars

while hammering…


The joy of being alive

is this moment

is to BE

this moment



as if it is the only moment

that ever was

and ever will be.




©️ Brigitte van Tuijl




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