Striking, rippling reflections,
pebbles breaking through sunlight,
peak through tumbling waters
as elusive, yellow spirits,
slick wets, reds and blacks,
and slippery clears,
rattling within the ride of turbulence,
and glinting sporadically.
These striking reflections beckon below,
echoing around my feet,
to the place where my body haunches,
bending above the surface,
where I listen
to the culmination of time and space,
to the culmination of all things.
It’s within the gleam of this moment that I’m self aware,
that the depths of grains and liquids break into my very own depths,
like liquor into the blood,
that the echo of my eye meets that of the stone and water,
and together everything trembles upon the thin surface,
flowing into each other all at once.
It is within the gleam of this moment,
that I’m caught between and within everything that exists, and everything that doesn’t.
It’s within the gleam of this moment
that I’m no longer caught within my body or a finite definition of self,
that I am truly aware of the amalgamation of everything as one.
It is within the gleam of this moment
that I truly see the nature of all things rippling together
within a striking, rippling moment in time.
-Jerry Harris III