As you measure the seasons by boxing them in
To a concentrated number of possibilities
.One.Two.Three.Four.
Squaring the spheres, Delineating the holes
As a whole
Inter-connection of discretionary individuals
Pitting one against the other
over/under
Whether or not they stack up
To A or not A-
One.
And then you try to pick up the sticks
The fallen kindling and twigs
While your growth & development
Burns away–day by day.
The forest doesn’t stop at the surfaces of each;
seed, sapling, and tree.
But pulses and circulates deep within and,
deep without every fluid locality.
Imagination picks up the branches
When our senses lose sight–
Night’s fading light–
So quit drawing lines of integration
And polishing limes to undifferentiation
In your tasteless pursuit
Of self-same Possession.
If you want to attune as we all should want to do,
Join the ensemble of diverse communion.
Taking in, holding dear, and passing on
The present of life
In love. And love in life;
Honestly, reasonably, and kindly
Through a process of natural inclusion.
Don’t strive for complete unison by belying
independence.
Don’t survive by competing in a mulched ring
of success.
Instead, take a deep breath whilst holding openness,
Your universe can breathe life into death.
And death into life.
An enjoinment of enjoyment.
A dynamic framing that melts grim anticipations
from warm hearts and minds.
