transcendent moment
in the expectation of terror,
i walk along, each foot carrying the other forward
toward a table made of plastic
in order to bend at my waist again,
shirt rising but not revealing my
skin to the coldness of external air
and then i sit at a table made of plastic
which i pass seven hundred times a day
there are holes in time
patches of experience
transcending, yet falling on top
of ordinary prosaics,
a heavy unitary raindrop falling into an ordinarily still lake
plopping and rippling outward
merging suddenly until indistinguishable
does the raindrop lose its identity for itself?
does it cease to exist as a raindrop,
overwhelmed by the collectivity
of the water it meets?
does it only appear to be unseparate to the Others?
moments of beginning and ending
birth and deaths of time
incongruent with,
necessary to,
functional flow
transcending, and yet coincidental
No comments:
Post a Comment