My world
You talk of
Your world
As if it is
Not ours
Not our reality of
Self and silence and
Quiet contemplation of
Quiet contemplation of
Mind over matter over mind.
What then is
Your world?
My world is this,
These slumbering trees
Whispering, these
Wakening birds calling
This sky growing lighter
These tendrils of the
Real and unreal
Twisting through me.
My world is a flow
Between coming and
Becoming, neither knowing
Nor Truth, rather
Wisdom.
And it's time run
Together
Past present and the
Future, in the land
In the air in the
Feelings.
In honours me
A member, a
Wild child of Nature
Neither formed nor
Lessons learning
Rather a motion from
Nothing to nowhere
And everywhere on the
Journey.
Making everything
In this world
And yet nothing.
I am all, I am nix
I am never, I am always
And my world is
All of this
And much more.
My world is all of me
And I of it.
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