Thursday, May 06, 2010
We are shadows cast
By our souls’ interruption
Of a light unseen,
Of a radiance born inside
The small, tight corners of dimension.
As the wavering dimness
Of my commuter bus’ exhausted vapor
Upon the road in morning sun.
Does the world only reflect
For our eyes to catch.
Can experience be separated
Is this why basketball hoops and navels
Life is a continuity of Identity.
A careful juggling of what
Has gone before
As evidenced in what is
Seen now and balanced
Against what is expected
This is the essence of Human consciousness;
and is the inherent tension of our race.
Identity is found in the lines of your hand,
In your gaze to the horizon.
These are not at all new thoughts,
Only philosophical preambles,
A shuffling of cards in the parlor.
It is only the concentrated shield of our
Ever re-etched pattern of ego,
Highly held against chaos
That keeps us from the Madness of
Also, ice cream.