Finding Buddha

And if I split myself and stand
At every corner of said universe
On any selfsame summer day
With any selfsame afternoon rain
Will this, though thought, slip
Where densities of interest fail
(Or by failures to perceive)

.

This leaf-boy-runner
Eight portions of beingness
The full and fill of prime creation

.

(Perhaps where life has paused
Or slowed enough to perceive
At any speed

.

The speed of perception
The true speed of light
The wavelengths of laughter
And of any thing
)

.

While density shifts
Where inertia has failed

.

(The density of my interest
The shift of my affinity
)

.

There is no doubt
It has velocity
It gives back light
It bends the universe
It has location
From which expands
All space
Not already filled
With the logic of otherness
And even there it bends— It wills

.

As (my breadth of vision)
A torrent
An avalanche
A fissure in nothingness
A co-creation of All
This theatre
Our audience
Of stelae
Beacons of lostness
In search of wavelengths
Of affinity
Where you might
Where I have
The curves beneath our frequencies
The pitch and roll of their design
Their width

.

(We have
Each other
)

.

In all that vastness
An ordinary leaf
From this
For that
(I am)

.

The breathless
Runner

.

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