expressing us

Problem is, we remain for duration, trapped

inside our language, believing what it shows us,

pretending ownership of our perceptions, and

around our ideas, our words, language wraps

a box of separation, this apart from that

each content its own identity, ready for listing,

like stories within a collection, toys in a chest,

fictions shorn of every hanging thread

devoid of connection to the great everything,

and consequently fictive.


My intellect and yours both understand

how any story’s end begins another story,

each beginning marks an ending, and

each occurrence results from others

in other stories which all connect as one

very large story without beginning or end…

but to grasp such a concept for the telling

lies beyond reach, for grasper and grasped

must both have identities, separate and

bounded, secure in our box of separation.


We exist as sensory organs by which

a boundless universe experiences itself and

always has because it never began, was

here already, and everywhere, and

if there were a beyond, there too, thus erasing

the here and there, the then and now and

spinning, shapeless without any center,

past any imagined ending or beginning,

nouns becoming verbs and vice versa, all

avoiding capture within subject or object.


And so to communicate to another

such understanding evades language,

giving way only to direct demonstration

by means of one’s presence and action

thrust into the timeless moment of now,

without assurance any communication

actually occurs or if it does, without indication

whether perception distorts it (or not) and

can this be why the old ones created

images on rock faces along their path?


…and does the sycamore demonstrate truth

by encouraging the tasty morels beneath it?

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