On crashing my motorcycle and laying on the ground

Skull_Cut_Bandana

Beliefs melt
Become unrecognizable to non-witnesses
Inconsequential

As example
What is a weekday?
It’s an easy latch mistaken for importance

See

Other cadences, transient and flimsy
Arrive, are present, overlap and recede.

Then

It becomes a struggle to ward off the easy familiarities
They creep and rush back through your edges
And suddenly you’ve forgotten you had escaped.

Except

Within and on your body are the hard reminders
That you had been temporarily free.

Later on

You recognize it in the rustling of sparrows weaving their nest
In the hovering warm air just beyond the tree’s shade.

For now I’m in between
Dreaming of that lightness, considering the discrete pain
Knowing it will one day happen again.