Boring workday afternoon

It was just a boring workday afternoon

A hand on my head for the sun in my eyes

Very mundane to count as a miracle too

But then my skin started to singe

With what must be a thousand refractions of this bright light

My hand felt like a dragonfly

Flying high against sky

Her wings are blue, yellow, pink and green 

Too much all at once 

My skin was like the abalone shell 

As if protecting her pearls

Cupping the wisdom of all her years 

Gathered while at sea

The light bounces off the tiny sweat beads

That look like little opals

Each little one a fiery cry, a protest to be free

Then I hear a bell in a distance 

One just like lunchtime at school

Or at a church on Sunday

Or 6PM in a market square

I need to get back to work before end of day