The Visitor

Glaring at me, like sun after sleep

Was an eye.

The pupil, dark as night and the outline,

A golden glowing white.

Never before had I seen such a vision.

I heard myself pleading, ‘please don’t go away… please don’t go away’

As if I knew its visit was impermanent.

Slowly my visitor began to dissolve,

My eyes fluttered as if to preserve its beauty.

But like everything in this world,

Its existence was merely temporary.

Muddled Meditations

Sometimes I sit and wonder.

What it’d be like to be a bug.

To spend all day,

Crawling or perhaps flying.


 

Incessantly searching for,

Whatever it is they need.

Food? Water?

Why even bother?


 

Then,

I realize not much is different.

Between me,

And a little bug.

Our search coincides,

Around that which is inside.


 

Their world, my world.

Both revolve around the same thing.

One tiny life except upright.

Walking, or perhaps running into decay.