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.