There are days
When I am on the southern side
Of stability
Still on the globe
But listing a bit
Downward
Leeward
Into the wind
Going in circles
Drawing my own lines to cross
But never crossing
Not even the Ts
No dotting of the Is
Either
 
I want to remain
Home alone
In my thoughts
Foraging
Comes from within
No window or doors to be opened
No fresh air
Just stagnant
Dull
Smoke filled haze
 
The big bang will come soon enough
So, for now I will vegetate
Digest all that has been swallowed
Through the skin
Of my permeable
Membrane
Thoughts
Are kin
Kind to me
In that I may graft them
Into themselves
And wait
For them to bear fruit
Of a new species
A new origin
 
A new thought
May get lost
If not for the compost heap of mind
Waiting
For the wastewater to disperse
New cells from their lodgings
So, life can spring anew again
 
And so I wait
In this sate
Of not getting work done
No clinging to the window sash
To let light in
 
I am
One
Simply one
You would not notice
On the street
For my gaze
Even if it withheld your eyes
You would see nothing
A blank stare
Without a face
But I am in here
Waiting
To overcome
Myself

8-22-2014