grace is an infinite harvest;
forgiveness is the water, sun, and soil.

i am buckethead; i cannot see the light.
a filter of dirt; the light thru me is darkness.

i am the word
stained by attachment,
a world prism i am.

i wish to be as the full moon to the full sun, but i am no mirror; i am a factory; i create death.

It is never accidental that we find ourselves living and dying.

We do all we can to ignore death. Ever claiming that we don’t belong.

— On the day it can no longer be ignored you will bargain,
bargain in abstraction a bargain that cannot be made.

You are obliged to ink long dried; your name signed with first breath.
There is but one way out; to give up your name, to submit to your destroyer, your creator, your master and maker. Admit you have no victory you can construct.

things have gravity when they stand alone,
but all is cohesive as one.

speak into my thoughts.
guide me along your will.
you are my animator; i am your hands,
your feet.
use me.

the word, which is God,
sees all creation as clean.
guilt is temporal.

it’s like being lifted
from a dream.
you’re here
and all the people you know
are so real
and the space warps around you
and it’s nothing but love.

it’s not uncomfortable.

you’ll never feel like you’re ready,
but it comes
and you’ll know that you’ve been waiting.

—————

you are arms and legs and organs and thought and you are air and fire and water; full, emptied and filled.
God is one, the whole as one.

death and life,
a kiss between
melodrama
and silence.