Resonance

The ungraspable identity
of what exists.

The original act of love,
still unfolding.
Offered and received,
in every encounter,
every experience.

It carries the promise of meaning —
precisely the kind that slips away.
It escapes understanding,
but not the finer instruments:
intuition, flashes,
dreams.

It appears as the gap
that haunts us —
between what is tangible,
blunt and absurd,
and what feels, somehow,
oriented.

As if there were a current
running underneath
all this.

It is the pulse behind our myths,
our theories,
our rules,
our instincts.

It is the tension
that unsettles the solid,
and keeps the sensitive
moving.

It is vertigo.
Because it questions how we live,
how we share this world —
as if a choice remained
between what we see
and what we hope.