Never, Seen Again

The sun hits the legs of an old wooden chair.
The chair says nothing. Experience observes
Only the light as moving. Thousands of years

Of cultural transmission pass on the news
That it’s the whole world of experience turns
Itself, battered old chair included, into the light,

Then away from this light, and then in again
To what will be the light of another day.
Will you experience it? Will the chair legs

Light up for the next experience passing
Who may sit right exactly here, as you sit,
And not have any awareness of the light?

A poet published a book in which her words
Grappled with her experiences, quoting
Many other poets’ thoughtful, published words.

She wrote that she held a silence at her core,
A silence she wanted to turn into birds
That would fly off, never to be seen again.