A Grateful Insignificant Synesthete
On my morning ride to work
the hills follows my breath
larger, smaller, pushing the sky
which, in turn, hums like a rumbling train.
The line of cars rises off the road,
and the oncoming line of faces
expands to every city, every country
as I become happily no one.
This side of normal
over the years, I have enjoyed
being a broken synesthete
and savoring absorption in insignificance.
— by Sabio Lantz, May 2015
Prompt: Gabriella, at d’Verse Poets, ask us “to think of something that is part of your everyday life …. and weave it into a poem that makes us see what is unique for you about your routine.”
- “synesthete”: A person whose nervous system allows crossing of signals across different sensory or cognitive pathways – synesthesia. See the wiki article
- See my the post on my idea blog entitled “The Glory of Insignificance” — this is a poetic version, allowing much broader interpretation.