almost lost a leg

it's to do with
the intersection
of the infinite
and the mundane: anything
can happen, and almost did.
And if you're honest with
yourself: that leg of yours
isn't so secure
and invulnerable
as you'd like to think.

The other interesting aspect is,
I did almost lose a leg! Probably.
And so did you,
if you think about it.

For me probably, and probably
for most people probably, if we could be
honest with ourselves, if we could be
aware of the many horrible things
that almost befell us and -
- owing to the timely intervention
of chaos - did not befall;

if for every one of those, we could
have a leg, we'd be centipedes
but instead, we're left
with our own leg, whole.
And infinitely not lost. Our leg,
un-severed, provides a glimpse:

the huge web
of interconnectedness
that we traipse through obliviously

each morning, and on through the day. It seems
likely to the brink of certainty

that each of us

could easily look back on our lives, and say
"how many, many instances there were
where we - all unknowing - very nearly

did
lose a leg."