Ceiling Fans & Pull Chains

Sprawled out on a dirty floor
I stare up at the ceiling fan
Feel the forced air
The gentle hum of the motor
Perfectly balanced
Which chain is for the light
And which for the fan
I can never remember

It's times like these, in stillness
At peace
The answers lie waiting
Offering, for a moment
To expose themselves
And if we open our eyes wide enough
We may just find exactly what it is
We've been looking for

Or maybe
We just close our eyes
Set aside our need to understand
Embrace this moment
Of stillness
For what it is
And think of nothing more
Than dirty floors, ceiling fans 
And pull chains



  1. i like poems like this.
    i had a writing professor tell me once that you can’t write a poem about just anything. i argued that that is exactly what poetry is about–everything, anything, nothing.
    then i wrote a poem about the zipper on my pants.
    sometimes just staring at the ceiling fan is poetic.
    plus, of course, it is deadly important that sometimes we get quiet & still enough to listen & to hear.
    i’m trying to say–this poem is perfect & wonderful & i keep reading it & finding more to like about it.

    Liked by 7 people

      1. You’re welcome. I have reread my first comment and I wish I had written what came to me originally: What a moment in the mind! The choice between the two can seem so simple and yet be so difficult in the moment.

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. I agree, I so often get hung up on trying the find the damn meaning in everything. It’s annoying and tiring. Sometimes things just are what they are and the deeper meaning is nothing more than the surface. There’s no need to assign depth to everything.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. Love the dualities with the two chains and answers or “set aside our need to understand.” I’ve done both under a ceiling fan… It relaxed me just thinking about it.

    Liked by 1 person

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