Firestone Friday: Poem XXII

I see you in every mountain, valley, and assembly of water. I feel you in every breeze, raindrop, and patch of sunlight. I hear you in the voices of others, in the tolling bell, and in the neighbor’s music. I smell you in the chain restaurants, the budding flowers, and the decayed leaves. I taste you in my morning coffee, in my hot tea, and in my straight whiskey. Even at the loss of my senses, I could not escape the world in my mind that is crafted in your matter. There is nothing without or within me that occurs to me before going through you, first.