In the Air

In the air after
him a cologne stings and
brings memories of those who may
know quality but not
where it goes. I have already
known you. Lumbering blackness
in the bending hours of the
day seem to make the street's voices much
louder, shouting as if to say There
isn't much time! Discovering where I come
from while missing where I don't I yearn
less for a place and more for those who
know me best. I glance my
mistrust. That blink means let's not
discuss. That turn says you must
be gentle for entry to be
arranged. I could follow where
anxiety of the unknown beckons
and climb towards that crest of fret
in my chest, but instead smile
at my surroundings, close to
unpleasant prattle of those who should
mean well, feel the glow under the door of
my very smallest room. It is
already fine. It is only a dusting
of gloom.

Satori

To arrive
at a destination and still
be in awe after trials and
time; to know that the true
journey is greater; to see the place as
part of the story, but watch the story
live itself without need of a
scene; to scribble behind the script being
written, hear the hum of the silvery
soundtrack, be pressed by
prompts that direct me, blink at the marvelous
movement rising up and around
in the crisp new colors and shifting
forms of my experience: destinations
dot my inner horizon, but there has only
ever been one
moment, and it is
this one.