But the clouds
Occlude it
A dark shroud
The gentle beat of my heart
A metronome
A clockwork
But the thrum of life
Is not the energy of being
Body working; spirit latent
The gentle beat of my heart
A metronome
A clockwork
But the thrum of life
Is not the energy of being
Body working; spirit latent
Though, really
I could do with a few more hours
Of non-being
We are all just shadows
In the moonlight
Beneath a darkening sky
Of stars and cloud
All in motion, even I
In this moment fixed in time
Which has no memory
Or destiny
Three lives there
Faceless beneath the clouds
Unknown
Unknowable
But for outlines
Against the sky
One drops off the world
Lost forever
To anonymity
But for the unnamed character
Forming in the theatre
Of my mind
An Island without shoreline
Whose only boundary is infinity
The same Island that is every other being
Who has ever existed
Who will ever exist
Beyond them
Is a land secure from
The inadvertent effects
Of being
There
In the silent depths
I listen for the voices of insight
Beyond manifestation
With an electron microscope
I cannot see within the smallest part of me
With the clearest mirror
I cannot see the me that is me
With the mightiest pen
I cannot set down the words defining me
With the cleverest mind
I cannot imagine the bounds of me
With the truest heart
I love, which is all I need to know of infinity
No small finite creature I
Of sight and hands
Of heart and mind and spirit
If it comes down to the question
Is my living owed a purpose
I answer, oh so surely
I live to live
To love and give
My existence is, quite simply, these
In the emptiness
Of my quiet mind
I discover the contours
Of being
I miss the uncluttered I
Standing alone
In an expanse of sand