An impossible poem

An impossible poem

Our Awareness impossibly finds

presence and absence in play

and seems as shaping itself

but not yet separating into

clocks and towers and seashores..

Enter our minds to perform

this most special task and report:

Now we see..

But the report is swallowed

by our Awareness as proclaiming:

I alone am Aware..

So back to beginning and

finding our Awareness once more

presence and absence 

impossibly in play..

An impossible poem...?