Because…
by Odin Roark

Because
we struggle to be one with the world,
such as merging human perception
with summer air idling
among the maples’ weathered trunks.

Because
we find we can’t shape the wind
as it toys with the leaves,
or become the tree bark
any more than the lightning maintaining its love
for the flames it creates.

Because
we can’t be the oceans
or the creatures beneath,
but only another creature
discovering an existence.

Because
we might identify with orchestra members as they play,
but can never be the shimmer of the strings,
or the timbre of the drums.

Because
many songs exist only in the singing,
never becoming the singer,
just as an idle voice knows not
the magic of forming vibrations.

Because
striving to be one with it all
we listen to the personal mystery
pounding beneath our breast.

Because
it may all be illusion,
call upon your muse,
share the next dance,
the next struggle with your pen,
the next moment,
and the next,
ad infinitum.

Because…
illusion has no end with a universe
that is one with all.