I’ve heard from the winds
that have kept circling since
the newborn earth began circling
every moment is living
now
every moment is housed within
its own sparkling infinity, yes like
heaven
not heaven the golden
entrance to succulence,
full grapes, lips, or
crowning deliverance, or
even peace
but heaven as freedom being
being the being only, as giving
harshness, the being struggling,
its due release into being
the being only
being without need
to accept or understand
there is no being other
simply being as being touch
before being thought
before being knowledge
I must not know then
I am being then
now
the moments
unknown, and I’ll never,
except somehow have
already, the somewhere
the being is.