You have not known what you are.
You have slumbered upon yourself all your life.
Your eyes have been as much as closed most of the time.
What you have done is already in mockeries.

The mockeries are not you.
Underneath them
And within them,
I see you lurk...

-Walt Whitman


yet another year


What a year it had been, of comings and goings, of being, unbecoming; all things leading to this: I walk into a new stretch of time, ever wondering, loving, under soft rain and explosions in the sky.