That there is a purpose to my being
To my existence
Here in this time and place
That I get more than one shot
At finding that purpose
And bringing it to life
I watch them
And wonder if they notice me
Or if I’d remember them
Without this photograph
Each of us in our discrete worlds
Beyond each other
I watch them
And know we’re all connected
Not just in that spiritual sense
But in the sense that one small event
In a place far far away
Can touch us all
I trundle along the escarpment
Of this thin edge of immensity
Immersed in the awe
Of all that I do not yet know
And the greater mystery
Of all that I will never know
Thus is the curse
And the beauty
Of consciousness
Every photograph untaken
Every brush stroke unpainted
Every stanza unwritten
Every story untold
A small darkness left unilluminated
Here we draw together
To feel the connection
Through all that is
To each other
Earth alone
Is home to billions of such convergences
Leading to this gesture of humility:
How can I know this convergence of mine
Is the best of billions
Or even any good at all
All I know
Of the billions of others
Is at best learned conjecture
Even with the most intimate knowledge
Thus am I both creator and interpreter
Laden with history
And regrets
Lofted by hope
And purpose
Levied by love
And compassion
Most days I carry the weight
Lightly, aloft
Some days I cannot leave the berth
Tethered, grounded
So I touch the Earth
Am grateful for its stability
That I always have a place to land
Rest, and free myself of burdens
Then breathe deeply
Filled and empty
I take to the skies again
Pix to Words 