I have appeared to no one.
I have a presence with many.
I am still here,
where many have gone,
but no one intentionally goes.
footprints left over after melted snow,
faint shadows to others,
are tracks for me to follow.
I regarded the storm as life passage,
but the directions people took,
the means of their persuasion,
they leave for me
an invisible calligraphy of their callings.
I press on towards the motivation they took,
to feel for the heartbeat of their beings.
they carried stardust within them,
wherever they went.
I chase after their methods of deliverance.
they keep me up in the night of their glory
I am eyes that are never seen but always watching,
to feel how our oneness works at this level
in these mediums of nonexistence claimed.
snow knows me by my in-breath of their absence.
we meet in clandestine ways,
maybe sometimes as tears before they depart.
whether either from agony or laughter spawn,
does not matter on the oneness screen.
know of yourself in this way
and I will follow you beyond the end of time.
you won't recognize me then
and neither will I, you.
oneness doesn't care how we got here . . .
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