Omnipresence
the stars are just the million facets
of shattered prism glass shimmering against
the black window of night
and everything is just a piece of something
else
I am not me but we and we are WE
(not you and me)
no end in sight.
Benjamin Braddock says the lines are blurred
and you cannot tell where my molecules end
and the world to come begins
this brings to mind Teddy’s epiphany that
Booper wasn’t spilling milk onto the counter
but was God pouring God onto God
(and in those words
omnipresence had never been
defined so cleanly)
but its hard to see this Truth
when I count the minutes with sand
and the broken, tempered glass on the driveway,
from my parents old stereo, put to trash,
glitters as bright as many stars
and feels like worlds beneath my feet.
About the Creator
Mark Burr
Mark Burr is a poet from Ocean Springs MS. He was last published in Prairie Schooner. He is currently working on a chapbook. He also writes short stories and takes cool pictures with his camera.
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