We Pretend to Emulate Creation

ONE BODY

Evolution of layers,

placed carefully one by one,

piecing together the jigsaw,

so beautiful so complete,

but some pieces are missing,

I can’t find them on the floor,

why doesn’t it make sense to me,

anymore.

Universal connectedness,

some are conscious of the spiritual path,

a subtle knowledge,

cannot be plotted,

on a two dimensional graph,

a floating feeling,

as you start to drift off,

a geostationary orbit, in rotation,

Newton is defying gravitation.

No beginnings,

no endings,

no definitions,

or outline,

no possession or ownership ,

dictating what is yours or mine,

the colours swirl into spirals,

with no apparent direction,

what is hot is cold,

what is cold is hot,

and endless series of contradictions.

Intermingling,

coalescing,

blending,

extending,

dynamic change where our inside is displayed out,

where the stillness a quiet journey,

take places on the human round-about.

We try to challenge our reality,

but what reality do we challenge,

beliefs and ideas fashioned by a lecturer,

straight lines the foundations of architecture,

power,

grandiose ,

such superiority,

building a cathedral up to the sky,

the richness of the people,

seems minimised.

Words paraded in lines,

are you listening to your teacher?

containing the landscape,

in the rectangle of a picture,

lying on my back,

such perfection in the moon,

the mathematical precision of a solar eclipse,

studying the DNA of a cellular tomb.

The landscape completes my sentence,

as I watch the hills roll,

nature twists,

curves,

meanders,

and undulates,

the ecosystem reverberates in a musical of feeling,

such oscillations,

why do we pretend that we can emulate creation?