Dear Universe, may I never find myself.
May I lose myself forever in these reckless rumbling fascinations
With those around me and the Friday traditions
And a different kind of breakfast and
More weather than I know how to talk about.
I don’t recall the endings to great adventures—
Like A Tale of Two Cities or The Matrix
For the discovering is what interests me
Not the discovery.
You see, dear Universe, they end. And we forget.
So I hope to never end
And thus have no chance to forget.
May I learn the art of presence and may I be soft enough
To be shown how to participate and how to commit
But, I desperately ask, on my knees if I must
That I never truly, deeply, fully
Find myself.


The reader brings his or her own experience to the poem and creates meaning. Here is my experience.

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