…who straddles an abyss,
and dances a rhythm not of this world,
who was burned and drowned
but who still returned.

Who goes straight, won’t vacillate,
who fell, but stood again, lame,
who heard the unheard of,
is spontaneously trained.

Who can’t forget what is to come,
is speechless from being spoken to,
blind from gazing at the sun.

Too raw to be seen, too subtle to perceive,
too sharp to be felt, too blunt to receive,
too bitter to be tasted, for the tongue too sweet,
too acrid to be smelt, for the eye too complete.

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Sheered Vertebrae

Cruised off the logging road along the edge of a marshy pond and came across a significant trail through the tall grass. Thought it might be a moose and so followed. After about 50 metres along the edge of the pond came to a clearing beneath some tall pines where the ground was covered in black and white fur with bones scattered everywhere. A long length of neck vertebrae, still attached to the skull, lay on the ground. It had been neatly sheered vertically down the centre. The other half of the vertebrae were nowhere to be seen. The other half of the skull, still covered in fur and skin and one antler, was wired up to a tree, hanging.

One might imagine some horrendous forest creature ripping the buck to shreds in a frenzy, except for the wire. And so methodical too, the spinal sheer was so symmetrical. Definitely human; the unnaturally perfect symmetry the signature of the sheered perception.

As humans we need to admit that we are murderers. Consciousness makes us more than just predators, because consciousness ensures that we must to some degree face ourselves and our means of living.

At best we are the most methodical of predators, killing quickly and cleanly like no other creature. At worst we are cruel and barbaric in ways inconceivable to other creatures. Or else, we are still more methodical, dispatching our own species by the thousands with utterly detached mechanical precision and efficiency.

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Dust is the Cosmos of an Atom

The whole cosmos is composed of dust;
endlessly evolving sea of dust,
‘tween form and formlessness proceeds Creation’s flux.

Cosmos of solar systems, groups of stars and space,
of suns and stars revolving, in their order and their place.

Concatenation of gas,
into an ordered mass,
a planet of air and sea and stone.

And stone crumbles to rock,
and rocks into pebbles,
and pebbles into dust,
and alas, dust
is the cosmos of an atom.

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The Bond

The Bond

Through suffering we are bound,
bound together,
wound tight,
together in our wounds.
All wounded,
so all bonded,
all bonded,
through our bounds.
All tied in to that common thread,
all bled in to that common blood;

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