What Moves You?

Doug Is Moved By…No One

I just love the morning light at this time of year,
it’s so warm colored, orange, red
and if I head up over the coastal range before the sun
makes it over the hills in the east bay
then the slant of the sun hits the surface of the water
at Crystal Springs in such a way that it appears to be a huge misty mirror.
It only lasts a short time before the air warms up
and the local fog dissipates,
but those brief moments are pure magic.
Well I know the magic goes on moment
to moment but it’s so easy to get caught
up in temporary beauty and linger in the memory.

I don’t know how many times
I’ve slipped through that black hole
in the center of the galaxy,
center of self
and as you slip closer, objects
become more solid and you begin to get lost
in the illusion that the feeling of connectedness
is bound with the objects you share space with
until you collapse upon yourself into the long dark hallway.
From here you can hear the voices on the other side in the other room.
And you can hear them, but even your voice can’t escape the intense gravitational pull.
But I’m beginning to feel that the center of that hallway is where I belong?
That maybe it’s the pull of nearby stars that gets me lost in an orbit not my own?

We go where the horse’s head is pointed but I’m not sure whose hands are holding the reins?

And I don’t know why I’m here now writing a love letter to the universe,
whispering words that fall from my lips like lead.
you hear them thump into earth like asteroids
daring to enter her atmosphere.
But maybe that is what I do?
I speak to no one.