Pneumas Hitchhike Too
That whisp of dust on a country road
The damp air finding purchase on windshields of travel
Shadows in waiting for movement with sun’s help
Yet…
As cosmic essence knows
Currency is of no worth
When the enigma before
And after life
Is without object requirements for transport
And so…
The unbridled journey of one’s otherworldly specter
Remains the incongruent ego of both lifeless and living
For the body that starts out hitching a ride on life’s back
Eventually finds the paths and roads of travel
All lead to the same place…
A whisp of dust
A gust of damp air
A shadow that might be…
One of us looking for the next way station
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Perhaps they could be the entities in transient transit you are writing about.
Ron