A dance, a fluid mass of motion A clock ticking, time growing by addition According to an internal rhythm But the beat is off in its outer expression Interrupting the pace of multiplication Something is off in the wheel spinning A wobble in the perfect balance of motion Conception — by sound and light Vibrating plasmatic heat Our Planet, the pilgrim’s pathway Birthed by, and birthplace of bodies Spirit’s abode in generation: Form’s undulating iterations Beginning as waves of mineral Married with moisture Only then to sprout up Amidst the brown, red, yellow and grey As little green buds Appear and disappear Plants eat the atmosphere Weaving wind into the stream of soil In the dark watery basins Between rugged mountaintops And vast bright horizons Life, the alchemist Is dancing, a humic cauldron Where the bubbling laughter of beings Fruit from all the elements Mixed in proper proportions
