neither increasing nor decreasing
in this stillness
lines drawn arbitrarily
values assigned out of my control
who am i to say that this line leads to my destiny?
arguing with the vague voices that whisper
in the moments between sleep and awakening
considering this point or the other
leading to a handful of loose ends
tangled knots, twisted braids
and nothing but rope burns
from trying to hold on to everything
it falls from my grasp
the lingering feeling of the touch of a hand no longer there
fullness known only by this empty vacuum
completeness understood by being achingly unwhole
infinity bounded by limitations
everything is cut short
can there really be enough little things
to fill these vast durations?
enough to keep my mind at bay
hold down the roiling waves of darkness
lapping at my feet
enough wonder in these small triumphs?
enough light in these tiny flickers?
inspiration, recognition, understanding
connection
thin wispy lines, and all-but-invisible dots
over and under the horizon
i have faith only in that which is uncertain