Everything That Can't Be Seen

 What if, on some star lit lonesome night, you went walking
    with only the memory of love in your heart and nothing but
    years of confusion in your brain and you began to admit that
    you were actually here without anything to figure out, nothing
    that you could see or feel or touch anyway, would you worry
    about dying suddenly without finishing so much of what you
    started or would you leave it all to chance, trusting that you
    lived and loved as fiercely as you believed anyone ever could?

    Would you lay down under the tall trees and stare at the stars
    And tell them who you are so they can remember and hold
    your light until the day they all burn out and collapse and the
    universe starts all over again?

    Would you, could you, remember to breathe?
    And if we could see Shane again,
    the big red setter with emerald eyes,
    then perhaps you could reason why I edit
    so much out without the need to understand
    the most of everything held within.