I'm grateful for the unfolding
realities happen in the rightness
of their times
layers of becoming slowly exposed
at each revealing
striptease of being
truth is to uncover
recover
what's beneath surfaces
bubbling of what lies underneath
surfacing of hidden skeletal
details patterns of forms
she holds my tiny hand
as the other trace spirals
in the sand
sound of waves
announcing the receding tide
the moon pulls from the other side
absence of her reflected light
reveals flickering of long-lived stars
the arresting red hues of fungi
borne of mycelia running unseen
unwitnessed in their tending
the soil of possibilities
trampled by busybodies
bumping like predictable billiard balls
steam trains on the track
stations create a common time
bound by Bundy Clocks
tick tick tock tick tick tock
life in sync with optimising chron jobs
in misty clouds of silica guarded by guns
dot one's tongue
escape the logic
dig for the magic
reduction of absurdities
reconnect with the chaos
of turning
as we enter the age of air
unstable breezes from the hot desert lands
prophecies intercede on one's behalf
dry souls are best
suited for the culling
jihad for M'uad Dib
to see futures is a curse for living in the now
blind one's eyes
there's no escape from the tragedy of fate
the more I exercise freedoms
the more destined I am supposedly
listen to the secrets whispered under the rose
as I lick poison on fingertips jabbed
with blood a most special kind of juice
for fools, civil society has no use
to walk the unmapped paths
the bliss of choice in uncertainty
evolution borne of mistakes
in replicating what has been
unfaithful copying
creates danger, creates possibilities
creative destruction destructive creation
this body is not me
yet it materiality remains a mystery
matter is truly dark
dust the original sin of rebelling.
