Sometimes
I go from the oak grove
into the light.
The moonlight over the field
of tallgrass.
As a prayer.
To be filled.
Felt, fallen, bathed, and cast.
All in one moment.
Only something
non-human
could do that.
I’m not even sure
I can grasp it.
I just do. I try to live.
Literally, the human being.
While there is so much
simultaneously
happening alongside being,
too dimensional for beingness.
Like I said; a prayer.
Some kind of ionization.
Something electromagnetic.
Into minimal light.
Oak tree stark winter neuronal limbs
reaching.
Into a vast, vast ocean:
the calculus of consciousness
Physicists have yet to decipher.
Though my heart drives me to pray,
to give thanks to the eternal moment.
The thing recognizing itself.
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