I wouldn't say I've forgotten,
but I would say my mornings
are lighter now.
I need infinite space.
Though it eludes me,
I most certainly have it.
It's all around,
whatever we need.
Let's all keep playing the same game.
Poker faces, vacant eyes,
days upon days upon days of
dry, brittle, cracking souls,
unquenched, ignored for the safety
of our delicate external worlds,
which give us some glimmer of
hope that we might be
It used to be
that the wind would blow
and I would twist and
tangle with the wind.
when the wind blows,
I sway ever so
when it ceases,
I am standing,
save for one
"Oh, the wind blew."
It's like a big expanse of space,
and I can't see very far ahead,
and I can't see my feet,
but I'm not falling.
And the only thing I can kind of see
is a fog, a mist, a dense vapor,
not quite white, not quite gray,
but some kind of hue of nothingness.
The infinite denseness ebbs into shapes,
flows into patterns, and I,
some of it looks so real,
I reach out to try to grasp it.
It dissipates when I reach for it,
and takes clearer forms when I wait.
I tread so carefully, slowly, lightly,
and then run, leap, spin into the fog.
The only walls that I might hit,
and dangers I might encounter,
are illusions of my mind,
fabrications of my thoughts.
And the only changes that I might see,
and new experiences I might feel,
are only found if from time to time
I run, leap, spin into the fog.
I can't feel the ground sometimes,
but I'm not falling.
I only see dense fog sometimes,
and I'm floating.
It's increasingly impossible to ignore the fact that
I am my only constant.
It's all constantly moving. Nothing repeats. We're not going anywhere. There's no destination; no arrived. It's swirling sparkles in the air that no one else sees, but could, if they wanted to. And well that's just madness. It's choosing this instead of that and finding out what happens. Not good, or better. Not anything-er, but all at once it all just exists and also doesn't exist. Dichotomous forces pulling us all along by our teeth, or we are floating alongside, willing pawns in the game. There's learning to play the game, and then there's letting the game play you and which means which anyway?
Sometimes I write them, sometimes I share them.