Centering

The first question is not howto accept the premise that Iam not the subject of this day—its focus, protagonist, star—but how to verify it. Mostevidence suggests the opposite:everything radiating in circlesfrom my head, for instance,centering me amidst countlessconcentric orbits, the dark sidebehind me, the bright one ahead,the hemisphere of memory meetingthe hemisphere of expectationat a line that bisects me atthe point from which I look. Yes,it is hard to explain, but I seeindications that my childrenwere born to teach me hope andfear and selflessness or aboutall the many playthings there are,and my mother died so I wouldgrow strong and sad aheadof all my losses and disappointmentsso as not to be surprisedor crestfallen, and my fatherdrank so I could walk away thenand drink so I can walk away now.It’s almost obvious there is causeand effect, logic, eventsbuddying up with their morals,like how my wife was presentedto me so I could be goodto her, and bad. Perhapsthere are other things I’ll bemeant to do, tomorrow alreadypredestined. Everywhere I walk I’m at the center of each step,aligning sidewalk and sky like aspirit-level bubble and bringing alongas much of the world as matters.