One could say the body is a metaphor, but that’s not quite true
It speaks and sings and dreams on its own
And does its call and response on cue
But the being is more than reflection
New pathways in the mind
That space behind the eyes awakened
(Feeling safe, perhaps the trigger)
Colors mobbed for purchase
Dramas playing out
That skimmed moment before sleep
To what do I owe this epiphany
This deliverance from pain
My guide sits quietly
While I stroke the flanks
Of a quiescent panther
And note how its consciousness is out of body
There in the same glen of my meditation
Where a black goose has also come
These sacred animals just visiting
I had to record them for no reason
Whenever the sound, sight, technology
And super-ideas convene
The focus becomes clearer
Love the ocean?
It sings soars, roars, rolls and delivers
Birds fly
Their wings determined
And deft with the sculpting of space
I’m left with the notion
That there is no embarkation
Demarcation or separation
Except for the touch of one being
Upon another
