Bleating, naked

Starkly confused,

I run through my day

Intrepidly fused

To a vision of beauty

Soft and impure

Infused with air, statically clear.

Eyes lead to soul

And soul to its pulse

The universe seems ordered

Without any course

I wade and I struggle

Mud clenches to ripped jeans

Who has marked me?  Who is here?

Consistently present, but never near.