Thursday, September 20, 2007

Poem

I die, I die
I resist death, grasping...
holding on to something... anything
I lose myself... And for a moment
I don't remember who I am
I am but a swirl...
of concepts, feelings and intuition
...Then as if by the most gracious of miracles
I
am
found...
Paradoxically, but perfectly, I am found
Not by anyone, neither by no one
There is nothing that is recognizably me
...and yet I am here

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