Don't wander away from it
This bud of all that is real and creative,
this pulsing of tails wagging and smoke rising,
and of "how you fold your clothes."
this cradle of neurons and your blessed body
this riverbed that holds all manners of flowing
and all manners of drowning
or stay hungry.
You, my dear are alive
and that is good.
You cannot lose your way from Life.
it is your DNA.
Your very breath feeds it
so pay each one attention.
The salmon know-
and how they sparkle just so-
Fins and scales and flesh on the table.
It is not horror to their fish eyes.
Where is God-?
This question changes my body.
It responds in the hollowed out way
that my mind cannot face just yet.
But here we are,
in the bud of the cradle of the spot
that simply breathes and knows...
L i f e