Wednesday, September 13, 2017
“But most days,
I wander around feeling invisible.
Like I'm a speck of dust
floating in the air
that can only be seen
when a shaft of light hits it.”
Sometimes I feel as substantial
As a speck of dust
Something separated from the earth
Not so much set free
As cast adrift
Where does this place of isolation come from?
Why is it that I struggle to find a place to land,
Where I belong
Where I feel “in place”?
Is that I am propelled by the wind?
It is that people always brush off the dust?
Or is it that I am simply unable to
Let go of those things that cause me to strive, and protect
And close off
Those things that keep me detached
A speck of dust
Floating on air