no. 16

How do you express your life
without being self-important
when the only important self
is your self?
It is, this life,
it is,
but it isn’t until you say it is.

In the beginning was the word.
But if unheard . . .

This is a crazed interdependence,
so many, many mirrors faced towards each other
reflecting each in each other
forever.

Who knows where the past began
and where it ends?
There is nothing here
and there is everything here.

I am . . .
. . . I am here
somewhere.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in 2012, Numbers, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s