More Sense than Existence

It’s not what we do that makes us strong;
rather, it’s doing what we don’t.

Lost in a world I’ve never seen
in the daylight. A beat
pulses through my radio, throbs
in my guts, in my soul, attacks
my mind with night’s madness…
I tuned in closer to the channel.

It’s not what we know that makes us wise;
rather, it’s knowing what we don’t.

Words trickled off the curled tip
of her tongue… so young. I
leaned away from her. My sight
traced the curve of her neckline
down to the food of my youth.
I closed my mind and saw the truth.

It’s not who we are that makes us unique;
rather, it’s saying who we aren’t.

Alone in the park, a crowd
of others swirled around us
as we laid bare our souls, stripped
away the molds, and got to the heart
of the issues tormenting us. Complete,
we disappeared back into the mass.

It’s not where we are that takes us home;
rather, it’s being where we aren’t.

I turned off the lights, wrote
on my body your mystery. The sun
returned. With it came sight.
I saw myself differently, read
the words out loud. Suddenly,
sound made more sense than existence.

By Michael Anthony Adams, Jr.
From his poetry collection, Indigo Glow.

To hear Ursprung Collective’s interpretation of this poem, click here.