"Hitcher" — Bei Kuan-tu
Filed in:Bei Kuan-tu
As I stand alone on an open highway,
a cool breeze wisps against a single descending tear,
as an accordion exhaling its final sounds.
Emptiness weakens and overwhelms me,
like molten lava being drawn gravitationally
to its climactic end.
Gazing out towards a spectral horizon,
imagination extracts me of all sensibility and perspective,
What is whispered within is the mystery of a masters brush and chisel.
Clouds rest their weary bottoms on rocky plateaus
appearing like chairs crafted from impenetrable stone.
Particles swirl in multiple directions
creating dancing dust-devils in movie-like animation.
I'm awed by the wily wink of these wonders
For this day, mystery besets me
and silence engulfs my tender heart.
I feel so small;
as if a minute spec of matter
unknowingly placed somewhere in the cosmos.
And alone... so very alone.
I am a captive to the lines of this interstate.
And strangely, I sense an illustrative and profound Presence:
incomprehensible, unnerving and unknowable.
I’m drawn to it's shapeless shadow;
desiring to dance to it's darkened delight.
And I get so very close.
Though maimed by years of crooked blindness
I unquestionably glimpse and sense it’s formless Presence ;
though chilled by what feels like eons of self-doubt,
I’m aware of its alluring eyes observing me.
One tear becomes many,
and like the ever expanding nature of constellations in the cosmos,
I sense my end and beginning fuzing mystically into one.
As I yield to this all-encompassing specter,
like dew vaporizing into sightless sound,
my existence reaches its final stay.
For my undoing is upon me
and "I," without thought, am no more.
What remains of me is the road itself,
simple, solitary and paradoxical.
© 2012 Bei Kuan-tu All Rights Reserved