At Once, At Last

Swiftly, I am accepting the nothing.

Feels so good. All the pillowy nothing. Cradling my rising distracted skyscraper thoughts.

In the at once I am venturing concurrent to the breath. Trekking eon steps beyond the on and on.

Releasing the cells and smells of time, form, cause and substance.

And issuing forth expansive globules of softening distance.

Now dissipating into space...and grace...

I hear it’s garish blaring scary to succeed. Ambition is choking/stabbing.

What is gained? A promotion frozen in time? A snapshot of a moment? A halt in the flow?
An ego? An ego? An ego?

Melt the torment concentrate and let me sip the world. Let me taste the universe. Where nothing is personal and everything is eternal. And lasting. God...sweet god...and lasting.

Initially, I thought I would try to believe the scheme’s all real and act as such as well. I did a pretty good job. Nice effort and adequate elbow grease. Pasty star to my forehead–honor roll elite.

But trying is not doing, and I have failed.

I have failed to be someone. A name. A famous set of alphabet and body. The harsh and striking individual. The puny screaming speck who dares with tiny fury–puffing roughly up to madly
blot out galaxies as though she could be seen–

as though she could have been–

ever.

I have failed. What a ruinous triumph. What a paradox whim. What a slip of the cosmic gel.

In this moment–I have realized–that I will not be remembered.

I will not have existed–

at all.

Because we all–die.

And die. And die. All of us. Every last one of us. We die. And we die. And we die.

I’ve become a blade of grass today. Nameless. And forgettable. At last.



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