The Circle I Walk

in poetry •  7 years ago 

As I walk the path and go round and round in circles

As I let go of debating the destination, the reason and the result

I find that this is so much like my life

I can try and figure out why I am walking in circles

I can try to reason with myself a cause of doing so

Yet when I do such a thing, I neglect the very act of doing so

I become less aware of my surroundings and how they change

How my perceptions are always different each time I pass the same spot I was at moments ago

This looks the same but everything to the contrary says it is not

Even I am not the same person who was here a moment ago

My thoughts have changed, the insects and birds in this area have changed

Nothing is stagnant but is in fact always in flux

Why do I walk in this circle?

Why does it matter?

So I shall continue doing so, not out of negation of myself or my surroundings

No, I shall envelop the entirety of my experiences this time upon making the circle

What's this?

The grass has shifted and imprints of my bare feet are in the morning dew and mud

Who put this here?

Is someone following me?

Am I chasing a phantom or only a former notion of myself?

What is this I that follows me?

How can anything be what it is not and what actually is this anything?

Now I have become at one with the circle

I have created the circle and the circle is also me

I follow myself into the oblivion and still find myself completely alone

Yet I am surrounded by truth without reason

I am not this temptation of madness or correction

No this circle I have been traversing has become a life in it's own right

I cannot describe it's function in any natural sense of the word

This circle merely exists just to exist

And I flow along with it to experience it

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