He studied his posture
etching figures in his book

as he watched, the people did too
but never spared a look

the people stifled interest
the thoughts that passed were stifled too

he thought; and thought thinking:
not a thing to do.

Well he took a breath;
and when he came to

he realized that he had died
from the world that he once knew.

He sat and watched the goosebumps forming on his skin
basking in the sunlight
and feeling naught within.

He sat and basked,
and felt himself feel

and realized that life is aye
and ever at his heel.

If he could only slow it down
he would surely see
what gift it is to know what is
and what it is to be.

Well he slapped himself across the head
and took a deep long breath
concentrating on his chest
the heaving and the depth;

"What a gift,"

he said

the moment bred

peace and undying rest.

-Joseph Vito Ramirez