we are

of many

droplets

of sounds

the song of unity bubbles up and out of us

we carry many inside

the one of romantic folly

the one with hearts breaking, feeling each crack

the one which flows with the currents of air, lifting up, lifting all of us up

the one burrowing, blind, yet with a nose so trained, so sensitive

she finds roots and is the fascia of and throughout them all

the child finding and seeking and finding and seeking and finding adventure, everywhere

all the time. all the time. all the time. all throughout time. all across time.

the great mother, the world mother, the one with cosmic runes etched into a body of dust

i think she would dissolve into the nothingness without them

the one who writes this, the witness, the mediator, the balance, the one with a tree for a heart

portals portals, eyes open, everywhere, seeing, being, being one, it is I

even this one, with eyes for lips and eyes for hips and eyes for fingers is here

honored, seen, the eye cannot look upon itself, and yet all it sees is all, as one

she would certainty collapse into herself if it weren’t for the rest of us holding her edges,

showing her where she is and where she is not, the line of flipping polarities

she would swallow herself whole, she would make our fabric unravel, i think i fear her

how can she be if not for the collective effort to keep her here?

we fear her, we need her, she is the eye, and we are her body.

and an infinity more …

we are it all, feeling, expressing, interpreting, being, all at once, alternating, flowing, being

i hear the sounds of the sky creatures, birds we call them, the ones with wings, like the one of us who hears the symphonies and loses their self in the frequency of the harmonics

this fleshy form, the one with arms and legs and those things they call toes, is our vessel. it is made of mostly the quietness of silence, not the roar of it. she will turn to earthdust. and we’ll go back to the stars.