Thursday, January 29, 2009

Poem; As Is

As Is

I'm learning to let moments exist in time, 
in space,
without my comment, my diagnosis.
John and Paul have it right: Let it be.
The integrity of the moment, the person
the conversation, the idea, 
is pure, untainted
when I walk away
leaving it to be what it wants to be,
a monument, a pivot,
a reminder, a definer,
or simply
rather than what I drive it to be,
coexisting in my actuality
as something important. 
How mysterious and memorable are those conversations,
those people we speak with once,
never to be seen again,
but who frequent our mind
because they simply were,
they just Are.
Those events, ideas that graze our identity 
then scatter, remembered with fondness 
for their simplicity,
their short appearance.
Maybe nothing happens for a reason.
It wasn't meant to be,
it isn't fate, the stars are
hardly writable.
Things just happen. 
And they are Beautiful.
That lyric, that painting, that scene,
that spark, the beauty of 
a moment, a person, 
a conversation, an idea,
can Be, without significance. 
Don't learn a lesson,
take away a moral,
or even be inspired by
this, that, him, her,
then, there. 
Quietly step back, 
let it take on whatever life it chooses,
Watch or don't watch it slip into the past,
just being exactly what it wants to be,
or not be,
a moment, a person,
a conversation, an idea,
nothing more than what it is
or was
or will be. 


  1. I'm moved...and made more thoughtful and appreciative. Thanks.