Mine and Not Mine
In the world that is made
there’s poetry and me;
in the world there’s everything,
and everything is mine and not mine.
I am everything and again
only the one responsible
for everything-
willing to move in an orbit
other than mine
yet in the not mine
no movement is unmade.
As in everything there’s never rest-
up close microscopics shimmer
while distant things repose
seeming still and separate
as all still and separate things.
Yet there is movement
and in movement cohesion
repairs the unity
as all still and separate things
become the world again.
Everything happens in the world
happens here at last,
and in the world that is made
there is poetry and me.
In the world there is everything
and everything is mine
and not mine.
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