Aged three score and ten

The old man walked

Onwards and upwards

laborious and slow

to the foothills of the Himalayas

Once there seated quiet

Amid the hush

His aging mind wandered

The collective unconscious

Letting go of earthly need

Intuition planted a seed

He prayed for wisdom, love and peace

All the earthbound wars to cease

His spirit soared

With shoals of souls

Awash in roar and flow

Then he saw the passing of time

watched his body age and decline

Learned that though we may come

From a different place

We are all connected through the human race

Then felt his body at one with a tree

As the cherry blossom fell gracefully

Our first allision, in the offing
Nothing ever stuns the onlooker
Ripple out into meditative layers
We are a pair of choplogic ships
Blending in multiple narratives
I notice a splash of color, snapping
Your oceans' scenery is crystalline
With a high-tension passage
Rising tides grew like ivy
Issues are a grain of sand
Fluttering in the slight breeze
Are in my flaccid hand
Your tousled, bold-spry knees