This is a new poem… second draft.
Being
I stand,
admiring the edge of clouds along the sky
but I can’t connect to their certainty of being,
and action.
I’m floating like an air molecule,
“invisible to the naked eye,” but I’m here.
Fluid like ocean water and swimming amongst many.
I’m strangely relevant,
but irrelevant.
I can’t define the source of my fragmentation,
as I was born embedded in the Source.
