My Fur Pajamas Poem by Bullion Grey

Maybe abstracted from Source, I’m not able to know completely, but…..
I was within a field, walking slowly, in the twilight of the day when the night becomes, and day leaves without a sound. Not a man, but some furry creature, that moves stealthily about, while searching for food amidst a sea of night. The expedition of nocturnal survival, moving beneath night time clouds. No plans nor knowledge nor need of accomplishment, just living - just living, just…living.
I admire my fur pajamas, which I always wear, and I feel powerful, with each step. I may be of the abstracted, exist, but only here, that itself is an existence. As I walk farther across dark forest floor, farther away, panning up to the sky, awakening with the sunshine in my cats eye.

“No image aims at or points to itself. It rather points to the object of which it is the image.” -Meister Eckhart