"Hitcher" by Keith Basar
Photo by Matteo Paganelli on Unsplash
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As I stand alone on an open highway,
a cool breeze wisps against a single descending tear,
as an accordion exhaling its final sound.
Emptiness weakens and overwhelms me,
like molten lava being drawn gravitationally
to its climactic end.
Gazing out towards a spectral horizon,
imagination extracts me
of all sensibility and perspective.
What is whispered within is the mystery of a masters brush.
Clouds rest their weary bottoms on rocky plateaus
appearing like chairs crafted from impenetrable stone.
Particles swirl in multiple directions
creating dancing dust-devils in movie-like animation.
I'm awed by the wily wink of these wonders
For this day, mystery besets me
and silence engulfs my tender heart.
I feel so small
as if a minute spec of dust
unknowingly placed somewhere in the cosmos.
Alone... so very alone.
I am a captive to the lines of this interstate.
And strangely, I sense an illustrative and profound Presence:
incomprehensible, unnerving and unknowable.
I’m drawn to it's shapeless shadow;
just one dance, if I could.
And I get so very close.
Though maimed by years of crooked blindness
I unquestionably glimpse the shadow’s formless Presence ;
though chilled by what feels like eons of self-doubt,
I now sense an alluring eye observing me.
One tear becomes many,
and like the ever expanding nature of constellations in the cosmos,
they flow.
I sense my end and beginning mystically fuzing into one.
As I yield to this all-encompassing specter,
like dew vaporizing into morning light,
my existence reaches its final stay.
For my undoing is upon me
and "I," without thought, am no more.
What remains of me is the road itself,
simple, solitary and paradoxical.
© 2018 Keith Basar All Rights Reserved
