Debt Paid Poem by Calvin Berg

I sit here, standing
Grounded, flying.

My words freeze from my lips
The mist dropping as ice
Into Oblivion.

This mortality, a bitter coil
An elusive existence
We know it all too well.

With each breath we take
In the warmth and the cold
Each breath, do we count
Our existence, it wanes.

Does it?

As I stare at the window,
Finding balance in its symmetry,
I find balance of my body and mind
Perhaps also my soul.

When I close my eyes
When my breath becomes even
Then do I understand.

This existence we live
Is a gift
At the terrible price of consciousness.

Our price is paid
We jump into the unknown, released.