Peak experience in a barnyard. (poem)

I was eleven and thought being spiritual

meant going to Sunday school. I had

zero preparation for the mystical,

but that August on my uncle's farm,

on a day that belonged to the sun,

in the dusty barnyard

a rust-covered abandoned car

caught me, all of me,

made me watch sun on rust so intently that

my concentration became

a meditation. I was doing something

I did not know existed,

and I sat until I saw

motion like molecular movement--

something else I then knew nothing about--

and what I suppose were atoms.

And I …