Dream: Reveling in the Seeing

Nothing original
But everything new,
From a certain point of view,
And yet nothing can be gained,

It’s always the same,
Until we forget
And examining simplicity
Are filled with glee,

The swirl of tea
In the mug,
The pattern of the sunlight
On the carpet;

These marvels
Appear and disappear,
Leaving no trace,
No aftertaste;

Looking at the shadow
Made by the pen in hand
And the hand,
Gliding across the paper,

Where this really comes from,
No science can explain
This subjective dream
As it too is part of the scheme,

The endless game
Of here and not here,
Gone in a heartbeat
And back in a flash,

Never imagining
I’d see it this way
And yet
Somehow,
Always knowing it.