The Oxidant is ever defined by the history of the orient
The context is a mystery until found,

like the minutiae of what an explorer meant
when they added an image to their diaries

There was this specific image where

A giant fish pulls a boat

Waves crashing
from the background to the fore

Cascading, swirling whites and greens,
but effervescent blues show up more

Atman means self, which never dies
Are we the fish or on the boat?

When waves birthed from typhoons
land down sorely and the hull breaks apart

Does the world break too?

Are we the ocean of conditions
through which the fish ferries
the boat of the ego?

Or perhaps the birds eye resident,
a view set between the dual wings
of the present and past sets.

Are we the mind that dreams the future? What is possible entangled through the perceiver’s sight, awareness in kind

Or maybe we are the people
terrified by our lot in life wondering how we got caught up in such an endeavor?  

Whose to say?