We become a story
sometimes we become a small story
a newspaper clipping
a few secrets pulled out of a diary
or a quick-loading
web page, the eerie digital memory.
We become a silent walk
or a time to share a remembering talk,
we can become these
a line drawn for others in thick chalk
between fear and ease
a kiss of a meaning-toppling breeze.
We become the ear of prayer
a characterless ear above, below the chatter
we become a smell in the air
or the unhearing beauty some wish to flatter
we become a mouth that can tear
through nothing fleshly, but still we clatter.
We become what we were
always and ever more, a wider cipher
holding everything in our space
the expansive, empty space of forever
where those wearing the lace
of something have room to dance together.
Published by Richard Q
A human being-question chasing after both God and nothingness. The internet is a disaster, but our starlessness might teach us something. I welcome our constant experimenting with ourselves with open arms, for ultimately they are attempts of life at living and growing in life. My dwelling is in Key West, while the dwellings of my loves are Indiana, New Mexico, Texas, Massachusetts and Arizona. These spaces are nothing. Love abides and love embraces.
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Love the Dust 