Ann Keiffer

The Next Big Thing

I scan the horizon,

impatient in every pore,

leaning out of my skin,

stretching for a sight of:

The Next Big Thing.

Finally, from the place

where earth meets sky,

I catch the first glimpse!


Like a band of Bedouins,

The Next Big Thing

thunders toward me,

hooves pounding,

bells clanging,

cloaks snapping like flags,

trumpets blasting,

amid bleeting

and shouting,

dust clouds rising

like smoke from

a thousand fires.


The Next Big Thing

is coming so fast

but it takes so long.

Is it here yet?

Is it here now?

I smell the camels’ breath,

feel the grit in my teeth;

the wildness is so close

it is nearly upon me.


And then

in the next instant

The Next Big Thing




fading to nothingness,

the riders rising up

like ghostly 3-D images

galloping silently

over my shoulders,

past my ears,

into oblivion.

I am bewildered,

bereft, and almost

immediately begin to

lean out of my skin,

straining toward the horizon

in search of

The Next Big Thing…

all the while

failing to notice

I am,

            at the moment,

            as always,

standing knee-deep in rose petals                                                     

holding buckets of marmalade.                                                         


Ann Keiffer

July, ‘98










About Ann

I am interested in the strange beauty of brokenness, in transforming possibility in difficult times, in how we heal even when we can’t get better, in the alchemy of surrender, in the interplay of light and shadow, in the bounty of everyday wonders, in the gift of laughter…and writing about it, all and everything.

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