When you sit in the field
of no breeze or noise you
tend to notice the small
intricacies of the world
that pass by in whispers. 

Just as a stag grazes on
an open terrain, 
or a rabbit pokes its head 
out of its burrow,
We live in a state of 
perpetual awareness. 

I feel the colors that drift
past my orbital pool and I 
taste my veins pulsing deep
beneath this skin I call home.   

The world continues on 
whether we notice it or not. 
What makes all the difference
is our attention to ourselves
and all else we share it with. 

– B. 

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