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Self-Portrait While Meditating on the Nature of Existence

Self-Portrait While Meditating on the Nature of Existence

by David Hernandez

How amazing—the fact of this     bronze morning
lighting     up my seafoam kitchen, post-dream, post-cereal,
one milk drop     buried in my beard. Look how
chaos looks     inside the bowl, the water     churning
under the faucet, a frenzy     of bubbles, which pop
up and bob and pop. Does it not     seem the same to you,
being and been?     I hear my beloved     stir in the bedroom,
the bedsheet’s sigh. Listen from the hall     her sips of air,
if a nightmare breaks     the rhythm of her breathing.
Then I’m back to the bright     kitchen, an ecstatic sun
blasting     the front door’s frosted glass     tangerine.
All is flying and whirling     without beginning
or end, without language severing     that from this—
wren from heavens     from clouds from rain     from grass
blade     from the wayward ant     that bends by increments
the slender leaf     she quickly ascends like an acrobat.
Everything in the universe is one thing     and eternal—
so my cereal bowl, now     full with water in the sink,
is also     empty in the cupboard.     This from that—
be through with it.     Be done with how     an hourglass
splits present     to future and past.     When I copycat
wind or water,     the way they glide     onward, if my own
mind simulates their grace, time     extinguishes.
Now go     with all—with lava     crust and waterfall,
with cosmic     dust and snow     pea, with lily and sassafras,
with slow     and fast river-leaves     riding a current,
as riverbank trees     unpin their gold     hands, spinning
downward to join     leaves already rafting along
like a procession of fire, and mesmerizes     like fire itself
if you gaze     long enough to sense     the idea of yourself
disappear, reappear     as everything, as mindful
as any breeze, this new     you-less you, this perfect
emptiness     before the monolith your Self chiseled for you
reassembles back to myth.     Even your skin knows it
cannot stay     and so rescinds itself through     apoptosis,
each second     cells rush off     to kill themselves,
billions a day     leap from the shelf     of flesh. We are
every leaf     fallen or still     green and sunlit,
still on the ground or drawn     forward by water.


David Hernandez’s most recent collection of poems, Hello I Must Be Going, was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award. He’s also been awarded a National Endowment for the Arts Literature Fellowship in Poetry and two Pushcart Prizes.