vapor… we are or were and will be…

vapor… we are or were and will be…

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the house of lost souls

for am I faint
my words are thoughts
only whispers in drought
carry-on in the airy realm-
for my feet are not on this ground,
my body-
but a fading shroud
a lone sense
a vague sense of place

for I was attached to but a name
now my shackle is curious bound
round the round I orbit this base
just past the touch
in the realm between
of know and known
this is this place, my home

notes… we are, in many ways a beautiful culmination a molecular miracle generation, but we are also temporal, how do we as thinking beings reconcile this? I don’t know… I know religions cover this, but how can a religion formed by us in these scant few years of human existence on this one planet, in the infinity of space, cover this? wrapping our heads around impossibility or inevitability is anathema to the human mind… because we want to survive just as the simple bird does hatching eggs in spring… that thread binds all living things, is that god speaking to us? I guess I will have to wait for my end for a real answer… or none… hence the conundrum…

the white deer.

the white deer.

now writing this after the event, I am unclear, was this a dream, a hallucination? something other? of that I am now unsure, but in the moment everything seemed as real as a pinch in a dream might, as best I recall, but this is the next morning after all so I can not be nailed down to the details, however they might seem…
the scene:
nearly 2am on a summer night, hazy, street lights suspended in the humid air, hanging there like diffused cones, not exactly romantic, I know, I had to venture out to my car to put a couple of things in so I would not forget in the whirlwind of morning when I am surely not at my sharpest, especially before the coffee kicks in, the whole street seems blurred, mired in the dampness and lingering heat, almost like the reception of my eyes was off a bit, I scanned around like I always would, sometimes I spot a fox, or other things that go hump in the night, but tonight, about three houses down, something, surely a four legged thing, as best I could discern a deer, perhaps with antlers, I’m not sure, the form is also hazy like the whole lot of the world right now, I raise my phone up, pop on the flashlight app so cleverly in there, held up like a torch but not as bright, at least not on this night, the damn light is trapped in the infernal mist that is shrouding my sure identification, I swear the thing is looking at me, is it a deer? by itself, this late? I see them all the time, the local pack I mean, I know their work hours… and this ain’t one, my mind races to identify for certain, some fear has snuck back stage, coyotes have been spotted in the area and who knows, at this distance roughly could be the size I suppose, probably I am over thinking, but what throws my mind, the color seems off, for any creature of this earth, aside from a polar bear, which this certainly is not, I approach slowly, with caution, my flashlight phone is really doing nothing to help, and still the ‘deer’ stares right at me locked, surely my stealth is anything but, I hear no sounds, not even my own breathing but the white deer is aware of me anyway, as I am aware of it, just staring, the only two beings of the hour in a standoff, except I am approaching, these are my broken-in shoes, worn down like thrift store blue jeans for sale, walking in velvet, no sound, and I inch forward, I swear the thing has a glow to it, I can not describe it, except it exists in a mist, in it’s own atmosphere, the haze that is an occupying force, this night, I sense it might take flight, so I slowly, surely, lower the phone, activate the camera, get ready for the shot, somehow it knows, it looks forward once, and then back at me as to signal, I press the button, FLASH, hah, I must have captured it, for it is gone from view in the next instant, I hurriedly check my photos, nothing… nothing? this was a long few minutes of pulse to come up without a fish, there was something there! I swear! I check again, and there is a faint outline perhaps, a phantom’s trace maybe, and the more I recollect the white deer, bounced like a light-beam pinball behind the neighbor’s house, so fast, grease lightning, a trick of the mind? a trap of the haze? there were rumors that these parts were a farm long ago, I remember seeing a ghost chicken run under the car as a small child, but that was so long ago as to seem like a made up memory, I begin to wonder, and I look at my phone again, there was something there, an aftermath, a remnant, so what were you? the white deer.