Undifferentiated

Trees are still different in form and detail, arboreal identity may occasionally float like a falling seed into recollection; a mismatch between a willow and a redwood for instance - nevertheless, trees no longer stand, rooted in specialness just oneness. I drove through a river of cars, my mind shearing away from citing models and make. Inside the cars and trucks were faces; again thought refused to cling to these passing things but left all such pass-by in a slipstream of anonymity. The world of the named has exhausted itself, it is now emptying out. The seen washes itself in a boundless rivering. Mind looks through faces, trees, and all the traffic of life as if newborn. Clouds in a turning sky know not what to call themselves or even what they turn within.