Here and Earthed

That old pattern is stubborn and determined and holding on through gritted teeth.

Yet when I'm not here, it slowly lets go of me one gnarled finger at a time until I feel free from its grasp.

I am here and earthed.
My being merges with the water earth and air of NYC. 

I am imprinted here.
Beauty even in the slime of the human debris that overflows.

The razor sharp light slices through the protective fat suit and sets me free.
Here and earthed..... my real life awaits me.