pour-it-tree
“there it was, without a face,
and it touched me.”
-Pablo Neruda (Poetry)
who listens when the winds speak –
when the waters cry
all bodies
of friction
and creation
have voices
we
as beings of thought-forms
of the feeling foundation
of extension and expression
must attempt
interpretation
existence triumphs over time
over timelessness
who cares how
matter/anti-matter feels –
everything matters
our minds
are cosmic clocks
hands telling time
fingers pointing
to the stars
mediums
shaman
building arks
liaisons
between the Sun and Space
making things
from nothingness
building machines
from the collective emptiness
light
is our instruction
to structure
our sight
insight
tree, roots
branches
leaves
seedlings
writers of the Soul
recorders of the Spirit
are we
never stop thinking
of how capable we are
at being capable
of building
our dreams
at being the antennae
of the universe
at being the guardians
of planetary harmony
blessed with gifts
to bend elements
to blend dimensions
to extend
beyond the body
to transcend
ascend
descend
beyond the ordinary
let us pour out
the syrup of omni-sensitivity
from our bodies
from our trees
from our inner-ness
of infinities