I taste You in the
meal of the lion
that eats no grass
having tasted blood.

I hear You in the
silence of the noise
of the wrong chord
i often hit.

I see you in the
dark of a moonless night
and follow the fire flies
that You are.

Everyone meets You everyday
But yet know not,
so close and yet so far away.

Looking upward to find You
is an exercise for the neck.
            
                You are the animate
                 You are the inanimate,
                  You simply are...