Woven

April 26, 2014

The snap of a shutter,

so quiet and final.

A face, landscape, street, disaster

pixilated into eternity.

Laughter,

the smell of good food.

The rhythms of the kitchen:

move around her,

stir here,

wash that,

cut more,

and of course, taste.

Further in

and smaller still.

It never ends

from cell,

to nucleus,

to DNA,

to nucleotides,

to atoms,

to electrons.

To study.

To discover.

To wonder.

You say "こにちわ"

I say "hello."

and to understand you more

is a task worth undertaking.

How can I decide between

the intricately woven pieces

of this thing called myself?

No.

Somehow,

I'll find a way,

Perhaps the dream is the very act of finding it.

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