the artist exalts
the beauty of the universe;
the scientist its form.
the holyman worships
a sacred universe;
for the wiseman
all is one.
so much talking, thinking,
dreaming of the universe
this inside, outside/everywhere
universe.
no need to crave your mother’s breast;
to pace like a leopard in an empty cage.
the all of the universe is roundabout
within the very heart of you.
you say you feel lonely,
but soon forget how.
you’re afraid of death,
but there’s nowhere to die.
you are the mythy fiction
that you want to be––
the happy ending or the string of pearls...
the hero or the villain
so just feel free.
how can this be?
it’s always been.
frightened, alienated, in pain.
but not for very long.
your lover is coming.
the clouds are parting.
the sky is spinning.
the muscles of your arms & brain
may keep us apart,
but not for much longer.
the pangs of separation are
less stubborn than stone.