Breath By Breath

Reality is enough to drive one mad,
nevermind our vivid imagination,
nevermind the stars, the sea,
the objects of our poetry,
the vermin, the abject,
the sewage of psychology.
We're all tuned in
to our own particular frequency,
confident we can make sense
of all this static,
that our picture is clear,
But it's so easy to become unmoored,
to see instead of day and night
infinite changes in the light,
to measure life not by death
but breath by breath by breath.