Within the present moment of nature—

seen and unseen—

I pedal.

Not to move forward,

but to be held by space,

to realize that I, too, belong

to this larger natural order.

Edges loosen,

presence gradually thins,

until it feels as though

I might dissolve.

And yet, this sensation

will one day surely bear fruit,

and its scent, like that of a lemon,

will quietly permeate the entire space.