Life's journeys: Language, culture, communication

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On the outside, looking in

This, this, I tell myself,
this see-through envelope of blueness that contains us,
this fluid in which we move, this shallow film of sunlight
collecting into magnanimous pools, 
rippling, cascading, eroding, building
its deep dark wells of forgetfulness,
turning our chunky limbs of flesh into ethereal shadows
that precede us
slanting, hovering, levitating,
always one step ahead

This unforgiving heat seething
with the violence of recomposing life
from its squashed, wilted, macerated building blocks,
frozen then thawed,
this frantic ritual of making it anew,
never stopping, never quitting, never questioning

This humming, buzzing, chirping, this orgiastic
melody - is it courtship, is it chiding? - 
this, I tell myself, is where I belong.

This time unravelled, this irretrievable moment, 
this pervasive now, this 
is the time to let go,
to renounce the confining contours of selfhood, 
to graciously dissolve and be gobbled back up - 
now human, now insect, now earth - 
this earth made of me, made of you, made of dying seeds,
made of grass, zesty and raw, devoured, ruminated and returned,
made by the chitinous elytra of beetles that have
crawled, clambered and flown
only to collapse back on it,
this earth, made and remade, made fecund, 
this earth in space, I tell myself, is where I belong.

'To be' the only option. No more
'doing', 'wanting', or 'having'. This peace.

This nameless and unnameable fluid we are but vessels for,
this shedding of individuality and, with it, of heaviness and doubt and separation,
this melting into, this lifting off, this needing nothing,
this glorified globular ocean - not to swim, but to swing with the elemental ebb and flow,
but to float, but to be poured in and out,
this, this, I tell myself,
this could be me, I could be it, them,
all-encompassing and eternal,
infinite and untold!

But no. I am a pair of eyes looking in.
A consciousness - filtering, weighing,
asunder and deliberate - 
a consciousness conceiving of itself still
precisely as it strives to forget.
I'm here to grasp and to fathom
even as I remain unfathomable to all.
I'm here to sit in awe.
I'm here to know the dandelion as a dandelion
as the dandelion will never know itself.

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