Out of life
Was to carve out
Some small domain
In this wild expanse
I could identify
As me
Until
I discovered non-being
And realized
Being
Was not
All it was cracked up
To be
Until
I discovered non-being
And realized
Being
Was not
All it was cracked up
To be
Then cross them
To see what’s there
Or bring it here
And burn them
To keep what’s there
Away from here
To pick them now
Would be a sin
Though lovely vase
I’d put them in
No matter rooms
They’re brightening
I only have a glimpse
Of the way ahead
Through difficult terrain
Many sections of the path
Remain obscured
And the final destination
Still lies beyond
The visible horizon
Such varieties
Among societies
So much beauty
In its peoples
Nothing stuns me more
Than when some implore
There’s but room enough
For One
This makes me take a sigh
The beauty of a flower is
The life it holds
While purpose lives
Not in its petals
On the ground
Arranged so pretty
An artful mound
I breathe a sigh
Stop asking why
Stop telling myself lies
Stop being so damn wise
Fir and cedar, conifers
And alder with its lighter leaf
Like steps of cones
All feathery
But my lens
Sees everything
Grand patterns lost
In details keen
Moments
Beauty
Reality
But I have always used
My camera to create them
The art of life
Provides a more difficult task