FRACTIONS ON UNIVERSAL BLACKBOARDS

There are times when I think that the boundaries between ourselves and others, countries and other countries, roads and fields, the past and the present, life and death, are completely arbitrary, and I can't articulate why or how I feel this way, except to say that I get feelings like this when I'm in a car at night, watching the moon follow me, keeping pace with the car's steady glide, and I wonder how this is possible, this relentless, steady, stalker-like moon, how something so far away up there can nevertheless find it in its heart to concern itself with one mere mortal's travel plans down here, and this link, this bond between the moon-seen-through-the-backseat-window-that-I-can-cup-in-the-palm-of-my-hand and the real moon, hanging suspended in space, lonely and gray, not to mention their mutual connection to my own life and times, makes me believe that nothing is lost, that everything that needs to be found has been found, that we are all one, just subdivided, like faded, chalk-white fractions still visble on the blackboards of the universe.