Feeling the universe

Oftentimes, in the goings-on,
I am in an endless search
of who this is, or, it is
that makes me unconscious,
unmoved of the movements
happening all around, within
the body I call myself, 
the mind I think is mine,
the spirit I sense, cannot see;
of who this is, or, it is
that makes me conscious
for a fraction of a moment,
of the regression of various
parts of the organs I have known
as my own; when the leaves of
the trees quiver, when the stars
rise, shine, set, and rise again,
I assimilate the experience;
the feeling in the being becomes 
me, it forms me, it bounds me,
beyond words, it sets me free,
makes me who I want to be.

All conflicts, arguments,
sense of judgements
appear like dust, meaningless;
births and deaths of truths and lies,
of days and nights, set, shine, rise
in the twinkling of my eyes;
only the feeling of completeness,
awareness of wholeness remains.

For a moment in the gap,
I feel the space, which is
also me; in time, the search
doesn't end, but it discovers,
away from the horizon of reflections
the feeling of the universe.