So much doesn't matter
Or does it?
Like the wind
That doesn't call your name
Like the heart
That does not
Know your name
It's all there
And yet
It's not
Well, there's a plenitude
Of suffering
And callous disregard
But is it personal?
In a small sense
I suppose it is
But in the rush
Of judgment
We forget our bearings
And with it
Our perspective
