Each of us, a part of that larger something
That speeding beam of light
Streaking through the universe
That churning river, no beginning or end
That idea, completely incomplete
Seeking form, expression, repetition
Even before it is aware of itself
Each of us, a part of that other something
Something beyond us, you, me, anything
Always something other than what we think
Illusive as the beauty we sense
But cannot touch with our hand or words
Like chasing smoke from a distant fire
Or a butterfly through the heart’s garden
Each of us, something
But nothing by ourselves
Contingent, perhaps co-dependent
On each moment flowing through us
But even in the moment
No permanence, foundation, or reason
We just are
Poetic Alchemist 