t h i n . a i r

I am sitting in this park bench.
It feels like I am melting into thin air.
Am I here now, or am I vanishing slowly?
Let me pinch my arm or punch myself hard
Let me yell and scream at the top of my lungs
and kick my left leg with the right one,
to know my real placement in this space.

I pass through the space silently
even when I am sitting in this park bench.
And the space is passing through me, each moment
even though I am a part of everything around me.

The path in front is grounding the space above it
and the particles in the beams of sun glitter like memories.
I move forward like a dolphin in the ocean or a bird in the clouds.
My left and right are co-ordinated in a perfect space-balance
and the floor below and axis above my head place me right here.
I am supposed to be here, this moment; otherwise I would not be.

If I expand and dissolve; with a "poof!",

I would be vanished into thin air, just like that.
It won't make any noise at all, may be a subtle swish!
No proof of me being here would be remaining afterwards.
No vacuum would be felt and no memory would be left.
Not even the traces of my dreams would be in the air!

Is this a choice? why am I anxious?
Am I to forgive myself and let me go?
If I do it, will I be able to return intact,
and will all be fine afterwards?
When all things are considered,
I still strongly suggest to myself,
better to surrender now than later.


photo: 'park bench' / irving texas /sebastian©2009