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10/10/09
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I've come to this pristine, serene garden, Just to get away from the trinity of my identity — I, myself, and me.
This sunny Saturday late afternoon, October's sweet, sublime chill fills my cells With an overwhelming sense of fluid ambiguity.
I could just as easily be who I'm not As who I was before I entered this moment of repose And became suspended in undefiled transcendence.
In the near distance, I hear a minister's voice Articulating a marriage ceremony, Initiating the next episode in the lives of two souls,
And with it, I try to triangulate the hour of my days, The time remaining for my vibrant psyche to thrive, The visions left for my imagination to harvest.
Gradually, as the sun descends, I rise from my trance, assume my waiting identity, And exit the garden, glad to be new to who I now am.
10/10/09
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