In Being

Lights from street lamps and building windows 

dot the city, illuminating the vast Hudson laying by her 

side. Sounds of distant chatter and weary house sparrows 

coincide with the few cars still moving on the abandoned 

highway, waiting for the morning rush to once again 

fill it with chaotic excitement. The city feels calm, but her 

pulse is beating ever quickly.

As the sun carefully drops into the horizon’s 

abyss, my mind shifts to a new state, a restful 

delight. The scene is quiet, still. I become stuck in 

time, frozen in a moment. But the river’s current is a 

soothing reminder that I am still alive, life is still 

moving. A gentle blanket of the wind’s breeze covers 

me, greeting me to the night.

My conscience begins to detach from itself as I 

observe this world’s complexities, my life having no 

stake in its intricate simplicity. Earth’s natural 

harmony leaving me ever curious, and continually 

amazed.

Only until I fall back into the cosmos of my 

mind do the brilliant phenomenons of water’s 

flow and the moon’s gaze hide away into the shadows 

of my existence, merely adding nuance to my individual 

reality. Yet, in this dichotomy, there is continuity. 

In this understanding, there is meaning.