Posted by: facetothewind | January 29, 2015

This Body


This Body

A poem by January Handl • photo by David Gilmore

This body belongs not to me
It belongs to time-
an illusion that acts
slowly or quickly to
and chip
at the
integrity of the temporary
forms that have evolved to know
the greatness of
the void
the fullness of space
the constant attraction and repellants
of magnetism, gravity
and what we call

And though linear time is a construct
of the other beings before and next to me;
A shared co-creation that has
no foothold in the entirety of existence,
It still holds sway over
this constricted view,
this limited perception:
People, things, creatures, places,
all pop in and out
of here and now
and feelings of loss and gratitude
can sweep away full lifetimes
of knowing this.



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