on being

my hands pull out the dead shrub
I pour water into a hole in the earth
plant a life form
birds twitter above
clouds swirl
the universe opens
in a heartbeat

stories around night fires
over centuries
and generations
seek to explain
if not understand
let alone comprehend
the mystery separating
what is certain and
the wholly unknown

stars rewrite the heavens
fear and reverence twist within
we knit the distance between
learning
to survive
find safe haven
love and be loved
to realize our individual truth
the essence of being
and wonder at the sheer immensity
of it all

This entry was posted in ancestry, Being, family, Gardening, mythology, nature, Poetry, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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