A Fool On Saturday

Our days and moments are riddled with the ordinary and the nonsense. They are the parts of our lives that we will mostly find ourselves in. They are the strings that hold together the times that the floodlights were shining on the defining moments that will probably be the only ones we will remember. The ordinary and the nonsense will not hold much weight. They will always be the floating embers that will never matter. They often do not shine with purpose because the habit of brushing our teeth and taking a bath do not hold meaning that changes lives. They are sudden gusts of wind that whisper, but then come nothing. But what if we were told that their echoes are barely heard not because we don't know how to listen, but because we thought that they are not meant to be heard? Will we allow ourselves to at least stop and listen? Even for a while? Even if it would not matter?