I’ve candidly admitted that language (currently) is an inadequate medium for conveying any real sense of fluidity of a life… a gleeful snowflake in a blizzard,
I am, which is, at these moments, experiencing itself and expressing itself in ink.
I am not disassociating from myself as I write,
as I witness myself writing,
and watch the shadows of my pen and hand race before me in the light I shine.
I am not chasing the shadows.
I do not fear them.
There’s nothing in them that isn’t coming into light.
And, wouldn’t it be so that I always have seen things clearer when
I stay in the light.