Poem – Deconstructed, part 1

The sea laps at empty

Rocks cast empty shadows.

Tree leaves fall through empty space.

Ground swells erupt across empty fields.

The faceless moon speaks of empty origins
the billion year story.

Wheat and corn stalks gather snow flakes
from an empty blue sky.

Where is this?

A cylindrical vessel floats off
the coast hitting a large rock with
each rolling wave.

The size of a city bus
I see the setting sun
through the other side.

And nothing within.
No seat, no lights, no buttons –
no one.

The surface feels like glass
or carbon fiber.

Warm to the touch, it is
silent and still.

Further out basking
in the rising sun’s light path
pink cubes rest just
above the surface.

I look around, down the coast,
up the path, at the ground beneath
my feet.

Is this a dream?

Dream or reality

Dream or reality?

Observation this evening

We live near a short-term care facility and often see people in wheelchairs as family spends time with them and helps them to enjoy the outdoors, such as today.  What I saw this evening, has caused me to step back a bit, and remember my grandmother.  Seeing an individual with dementia, and those moments when the slight grip on reality has disappeared, is heart-wrenching, and humbling.  I guess there is not much more to say this evening, except for this poem I wrote.

Already the threads are slim
and tenuous at best
and the grip we do have to this reality
is fragile and precious.

Those moments when when the
veil is most thick isolates
the vision, the mind, the being
from the moment, regardless of its
reality, what only matters is perception,
and when the perception is shut-off
when the light in the long, winding
tunnel disappears, survival takes over –
the innate, animalistic, and raw fight
to survive instincts wrestle control
from the flailing being.

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