If you think that you're solid
and space is empty, think again—
you feel resistance with your hands
on your chest but when you push
them outward, you feel nothing
except those times when crossing
the street you're caught between
traffic, cars whizzing by you
on both sides and you're sheared
by an invisible force, some call it
the wind factor, I say it's molecular
dancing, air angels, billions of them—
nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide
and a spice of perfection, argon.

You breathe in this frenzy
of whirling dervishes
especially oxygen,
chemical symbol O2,
pairs of zeros filling
into your ark, and
suddenly you don't feel
so solid anymore but
extremely light as if
floating on water, on air,
emptiness in every cell
of your being, you leap
upward and fly away,
a butterfly in a dream

Peter Y. Chou
Palo Alto, 7-24-95

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© Peter Y. Chou,
P.O. Box 390707, Mountain View, CA 94039
email: (7-24-1995)