The Day Will Take Me Soon

I’m not holding on to anything, not the body or its dreams, or dream-bodies. Not really thinking, watching unattached the mind-play. Mind sews cobwebs into chain-mail. That which holds this 'I' together rolls with no anchors within its own confused rivering. I leave and return. The sun is rising behind winter trees, I am not looking, I am remembering another sunrise. Yet the sunrise is out there, even now rising, that unseen light clears mind and eyes. The day will take me soon, commanding me to own what I claim to be, but in the next pre-dawn, the next surfacing, I will know again that I am not.