The flat trees

It is nearly dark
and the sounds that give form
to this, my favorite part of day,
so far
are those of birds vocalizing.

I know from past experiences
-which I generally believe to be reliable-
that there are actually birds there,
to the right
in the trees.

But those same trees appear, in this light,
during this
my favorite part of the day,
so far
to be so flat,
that I find it difficult to imagine that there could be anything
anything, even remotely close to
the depth I imagine would be needed
to house all of those sounds.

Emptiness and plenty

For as long as I can remember

I've accepted the idea
that people mostly want
what they believe they do not have enough of.

For me though,
the long-held
and aching
wish to be recognized
by others
as being here,
existing
would seem to contradict this.

I am well aware of the intensity
and painful persistence of this desire of mine
yet find myself looking for more
and more.

It is at these times
that I am sure that I have entirely too much.

Pain and breath

One morning, as I deeply exhaled,

I felt a profound sadness, suddenly.
Apparently manifested from nowhere,
it was so strong

that I wondered why it didn't seem
like it was pouring out.

At that moment it occurred to me that perhaps

my breathing tends to be as shallow as it often is

as a response
and product
of a powerful machine that can only be known through the things it produces.

I imagine that many of these exhales hold back
a potential torrent,
and that if I allowed them to be emitted,
unabated and with regularity,
that so much might come out
that my insides might end up outside

like they were one continuous membrane.

The hawk

I had a thought.

It was recent enough,

and held sufficient importance
to me 

that I remember it clearly,

like it was yesterday.

which it was.

Still, 

it seems like it could have also been in a different lifetime.

The thought that I had,

as I watched a hawk flying overhead

was this;
I wonder if that hawk realizes that it has not always been able to fly?

In my own life, it is also not so easy to recall 

well 

if I have perhaps changed,

because my consciousness is so inexorably rooted to my own body

at the time of thinking
and always.

I thought more about flying

as I watched other birds,
on what I believe was a different day.

Those animals seemed so free, but then I imagined

that there might be traffic up there, or other birds
which could be annoying.

Still, from my vantage point,

which felt more like a disadvantage,

it looked beautiful.

I would think that having multiple angles would be better.

in my experience, it has certainly proven so.