Driving Home | A Poem

Driving Home

I am wholly and utterly in love with life.

I am wholly and utterly in love with death.

These inseparable things

I hold so dearly

With all the pain

and all the pleasure

Those moments of utter bliss

when I am overwhelmed with this feeling of unparalleled admiration

For every single aspect of my existence

and the world I have the privilege of existing within

A feeling so expansive it encompasses all of space

Closing the gaps between the me and the you

These moments, absent of time

As if they could, and are, extending unhindered into the future

And hold with them, simultaneously, all of the past

This human flesh

and the means of perception it provides me

an experience so very finite.

It will end

And yet

It always will be, and always was, alive

In some form or another

In many forms and many others

I am alive

I was alive

And I will be alive

I will die

I have died

And for all I know, I am dead

We

will

all

die

But for now

we

are

alive

alongside all other things, alive and passed on

What could be more special

More sacred

Than that

What could be more sacred than the privilege and opportunity of experiencing ourselves

And of witnessing and engaging with others who are doing the very same

All of us constantly changing each other

the things around us

and the things within us

in ways both small and large

Each moment, an artwork

One so intricately crafted, with such an unfathomable amount of moving pieces, that it may only be experienced once, to its fullest capacity

I am wholly

and utterly

in love

with life

For I know this flesh

as with everything else

is so very beautifully temporary.