lightstring
The way the sun shines through the trees
illuminating translucent feathers of a passing bird,
wings folding and unfolding to their small hollow bodies.
The days keep passing, one after another
after another, so fast, like a flash
of exploding stars one after another
after another. When will anything
really make sense? Searching
for the golden relic of peace of mind
but it all keeps moving so fast, so fast.
The mind turns into a type of flip book
one page after another after another
creating an animated image of life
in the midline of the brainstem
like a nanotube, flashing light pulses
the brain too flashes images through
the highway of nerves ending up
in organs and platelets eventually
metabolized in a symphonic epiphany
of personhood and character.
The whole of it all creating who
we want to be and making us suffer
through it all with the choices
and decisions we make while
the sun shines through the delicate
feathers of a bird searching for
bits of string and lint to make
a nest of survival in the streaming light.