Love is where it starts
where it proceeds to
and where it continues.
Love is the infinite expression
like a number line.
Love those who are that part of the body
even if they don’t like or recognize you as a part;
to reject them is to reject a part of the body to which you belong.
You love anyway because I told you to!
You don’t have to agree or disagree
You are just there to listen.
You have always been called a peacemaker.
Don’t be angry that you aren’t more like the finger or the hands;
You aren’t the mouthpiece of God.
The mouth of the Lord contains the double-edged sword
Woe unto those who without humility believe they have the proper authority to wield it.
It zips in front of my face, glancing my cheek
flying right in front of my mouth as I type,
It’s in my nose, it’s out,
with its indestructible snout
like that of a flying prig;
it’s a government gnat,
that’s what it is!
In other dimensions, the sun and the flower are equals, both needing each other.
Birth and death are the breath.
For every outward breath, there is release; for every inward breath, new life.
Plant me, bloom me, let me be planted; let me be uprooted.
Exhale and let me open to the extra-vagancy of your wandering, your spiraling golden perfection, your flowering heart.
Let me bloom where you plant me with your breath, my life, my love!
I love the breath, the breath of the self-similatory, fractally unfractured, Divine Common Factor
(These are a set of spiral poems for spiritual affect, beginning with “The Fragility of Vitamin D-ear-ness-t”.)
Without the breath of God
the universal heart gives out;
the garden of the earth grows too quickly
taking up the nourishment and never once knowing
its true beauty,
for the luxurious saturation becomes a bore;
Although God is never once overwhelmed
the flower breathes
because the breath of God
smells like minty freshness
The earth pushes
the earth pulls
The sun glows
the sun burns
the sky gives
the sky takes
the wind calms
the storms blow
The flower knows this is a biological process;
It is the the deep breath
God takes in and releases
in order to keep us
from stressing Them out
if desire could be within it
wishes to comfort the weary in a lovely bouquet
surrounded by the breath of God and babes
if only the weary would accept it;
though I know not how,
the weary return
into the twisting churn
to renew a self-sworn vow
It is a loving thing to fall into the fertility of the Living Soil and remember that flower has drawn all minerals and life into its being.