another day, another hour
another season...sun rises and sets again
golden reflections on the bright wet pavement
leaves letting drop the dew
over and over again,
we start anew.

another caterpillar crawling just beneath my feet
i sit and breathe again,
the morning mist.

i'm not more beautiful today than yesterday
i'm not more delicate, intelligent or well
i'm not more than the dust i was made from when i was born
i'm not alive more than before

i'm not still on a search for something
still in the web of predicaments
still entangled in the sticky, slimy slices
of the divine
i'm not still searching anymore