The Trancendental Egg

I do no know what this human feeling is
or why it matters.
For the first time in my life,
I observe it, but not cleanly.
I observe it while the dream
of the tumult spins
the clothes of my innocence and ignorance
in the dryer of my mind.

I’m watching the dryer spin
I’m watching the clothes chaos
I’m feeling sick in watching
but I’m not inside the dryer
anymore.

It is only habitual memory
but with the magic of the human experience
that can be enough pain
to change my mind.

Perhaps it is always a dream
in a dream, resting on a dream
from a dream
and as I seek, the dreams act like mist
when I walk through them
rolling and encasing
and gently forgetting me.

I walk through one, after the other
each one, mist
I don’t know where I am
I don’t know what I am
I know
I don’t know

I am mist
and there is no path
I am a vehicle
for something that does not drive
my mind makes me wrong
like an evolutionary mistake

Sure, I can cook an egg
But how am I life?

***Egg Photo Credit Coming. It’s not mine so stay tuned to proper credit***