A Self and Another…

A slightness,

In a way of being,

That is so delicate.

Like a flock of birds,

The thought of a feather

Falling,

Lightly supported by the wind.

I wonder if I’m in tune

To experience life intimately

Ideally

Or rather, only believe I am.

The restlessness forever a passenger

Who rides unwanted by my side.

Though, an image of my future self

With a calmness of mind

Allows another breath of thin air to coat my lungs,

Just enough to keep me alive,

Not quite enough, leaving me breathless.