“You have made my days a few handbreadths,
and my lifetime is as nothing in your sight.
Surely everyone stands as a mere breath.
Surely everyone goes about like a shadow.”
Psalm 39:5-6
Who’s to say
yourself is not a dream you had once,
surrounded by particulars—
floors and books and lamps,
phones, door knobs and hinges,
bathtubs and taps,
sinks where the water twirls out
in a spiral until it is gone.
Who’s to say but yourself?
If you are a dream you had once—
a why, and a wherefore, and a when—
all whispered by winds
whirling and wandering willingly then…
…we flow as rivers flow,
shaped by particulars
of surroundings, mundane
and mysterious.
Our self, a wisp of mist
woven from memories fading,
sensations dissolving,
experiences bending,
breaths—
slipping—
ripples—
gone.
Kate Newman
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Artwork - Micheale Compeau, Relations 3