Walking and talking with a friend in the woods.
I look up from the dirt path,
and out of the blue,
I hear nothing and see everything.
The canopy of trees - the chaotic neural branches -
the perfect leaves dappled in shadow and diamond light, each
leaf a universe - my soles tickled by invisible fungi - each
breath nectar...
I am a fire fly
I am a spore
I am exploding star dust
The words of my friend bring me back. In time I was gone for
a few seconds. In no time I was gone for eternity.
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David Juda lives in Berkeley, California. He gathers poets together to read and have their work read on his site, Voetica.com.
Lightwood 