what is a body?
what is a being?

what is mine?
what is yours?

what is this sunlight on my face?

what is this water we drink?

even this breath
was given to us
on loan,
by the plants and trees.

we breathe in to accept the gift.
we breathe out to return it,
back to where it came.

we are full
we are empty.

we receive
we let go.

we are here
we are gone.

I used to think that life and all of its little moments were culminating into something.

But the more I sit and listen, I notice that everything unravels as much as it comes together.

We're constantly weaving and being woven and also
flying away
like little seeds in the wind
spreading out life.


We're always something very important

and also, nothing at all.

mostly silence

but then

the bird interrupts,

the sound of snow melting,

the wind chime,

another bird, another chime

back and forth

and all at once

in a chorus of stillness