Driving along the plains,

The vast, flat prairie,

I have no sense of scale . . .

Only an endless expanse

And the unblemished curve of the horizon

Which tantalizingly keeps its distance

Always retreating from my advancing gaze.

The sun defines the moment . . .

Slow evolving intensities

Make minute variations of patterns.

There are no trees . . .

There is only the prairie

Patched with grass and arid soil . . .

Yet this enormous emptiness

Awakens me to know

The reflection of consciousness

Is staring back at me,

Containing the reality of all that is

Even as I include all in my own infinite awareness.