By: Entendu Posted on: November 20, 2008
In a mass of meditation where the undergrowth stills
We accept that we are the blackberry bush-
So quietly squat yet a bramble of the bittersweet,
An unfortunate course for the bunny to run,
Irrecoverable fur stuck to our limbs.
A slice of Daedalus alive in our roots.
In a raft of rest where the cedars canopy
We accept that we are the litter of leaves-
A soundless sight as guardians of the sky,
Careful to take notice of movement above.
Each of us a patch of cushion or crisp.
A slice of Oneiros reposing on the Ithmia floor.
In a slew of serenity where footprints vanish
We accept that we are the sun's shaft of light-
Laying ourselves across each walnut lost,
Configuring into shadowed patterns of shine.
Unaware of our destination yet sure of our descent.
A slice of Mithraea stationed between the copperwoods.