ambedo

i die in the bow wave.

can i set my thoughts aside?
i get so absorbed in my inner world
that i miss the simplest things:
ephemeral yet all-encompassing,
the strokes defining our sense of presence.
should i take stock of what i missed?

the sunlight through the fog.
the arc of falling water.
the rising of the wind.
the echo to a footfall.
the rumble from a train.
the heartbeat of the city.

all i want
is to be
enlightened
and part of this world
all at once.

i am born in the wake.