A Highway Sign to Seattle

A lingering moment,
time and space warp.
wait.
stop.
remember, I’m here
I used to be over there,
far away.
I close my eyes,
I see a map in my mind,
I locate myself,
and the place of my past.
I notice the distance,
I open my eyes
and locate a highway sign.
I’m here. I’m here.
This new place I’m still trying to understand.
This new me I’m just getting to know,
but feel like I’ve known all along, too.
The past was not a book I read one time.
This present is not a dream.
Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll (wake up
or) get to the last page
and return to the past.
How can I tell what is a dream?
And what is real?
(When do the stories on the page
stop being stuck on the page?
When do they go back to the page?
Where is the line?)

***
I look in front of me ,
at my own hand.
I close my eyes and locate myself.
Here. Here, here.
Is this what it feels like to take the paint brush,
the pen,
make life art
and not a task?
(This is what it feels like to take the paint brush,
the pen,
make life art
and not a task.)
Walking way out to the edge,
beyond the edge?
Where is the edge?

The moment lingers.
Time and space warp.
Wait, where am I?
I close my eyes
and locate myself…
here…
I open my eyes
and you’re still here.

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