05 January 2019

Postcard 154

What will you see?
 You will see a woman and a child walking across the grass under haze-filtered sun.
She holds a bag. They hold hands and cause eddies in a muddy river of pain.
You will seen hosts of common birds swirling and diving about them
Their paths are, each, marks of your own desires.
You will see the horizon spread at your outstretched hands
You will look on mountains with pride
You will grip clay and shatter obsidian
Shale will slide under your calm feet
You will see sand ground and moved and feel grateful relief
You will touch the slight lines of your own face
You will see your loved ones weather with age and fill with a comfortable despair
Time slides around unseen and leaves like crisp air
You will watch dispassionate, pain and pleasure flow unceasing
batter your body like a wave beaten pier
You will see the world you made, the self you made become unsustained
Conflagrate as an offering to a fire
You will feel the weight of praise and swell with righteous pride
You will see a march of ants in your sink, caught by spiders, hefting dead flies
and seasons blinking by will wash your eyes
You see yourself their progeny
You will finally feel humble and free
Your familiar cat will mount your chest and purr
You will realize and forget, forget and realize
You will realize and forget

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