My Two Shekels…a bit of friendly philosophizing

I’m not good with endings.

I write poetry, not stories.

For me, human existence is not linear.

I ride Life’s spiralling currents of energy and intention, feel its spray of emotion and sensory impressions.

I delve into its shadows, dance amid its sunbursts–

With only this fragment of breath suspending me here.

a singular beam of experience, a rush of meaning.

and in this space between gasps of wonder, amidst pools of delight and dread, I claim something as mine, as me.

I’m not good with endings, I know.

And to label something “ending” or even to title a thing feels limiting to the point of absurdity.

Because now is forever opening at my feet, forever revealing the magical mystical path which is not linear, yet always moving, always mysterious, always …