Eliminating Me

Residual rain tips from delicate cradles high in the oak and maple.

The stillness of dawn builds a church in my chest, supporting my body as soul ascends. The me I see myself as breaks apart into infinite tiny glints of light and disappears into nothing. The world doesn't hold us. So I wonder, why do we remain?

Misty stillness dampens the sounds of wakening.

When I slept, he visited me and briefly held my hand as we floated in another realm. He said this is place where we are unified; not earth; not bodies. He spoke and I understood. Then I woke.

It is love that keeps us
naked to the bone.

It is hate that keeps us
dressing for the world.

As I ready for work, I lay out my clothing and ask: am I dressing or undressing?

I, I, I.

Is it possible to write and leave the I behind?

Maybe the absence of I is why the poetry says more with less confusion or error.

For now, the sentences are asking something of me.

Me, me, me.

The knot of distance unravels once again because the truth is: there is no otherwise.

Eliminate me and be free.