My brain is alive (poem)

My brain in alive.

It

ticks and clicks

clamours and shifts-

trillions of patterns, pathways,

responses, counter responses,

analysis, dismissal, assimilation-

I stare at a wall,

and feel the hard weight of

infinity looming.

Where am I?

Is my brain me?

Me

often feels secondary,

Me seems

like a construct, a dream,

a chased reality.

And then,

perhaps more significantly,

what about I?

Wherever I-

wherever this reflection resides,

in this moment,

it seems to stare

Longingly,

and yet without recognition

At the vast blue skies

Generating and blooming

Above me.

How,

Why?

My brain subsumes

All counter-intuitive stimuli-

that how, that when, that what

That why?

and grows tired.

 

 

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