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Zen of Mud

...plain, white light of conscious sight

 

carved with the black of depictions,

 

stretched imaginations, dance of

 

curves and shapes, the inner vision

 

needs a pair of shades, color it

 

with flames of passion, free flow

 

of feeling, breeze of dreams

 

whistling through the meadows

 

of vibrant forms

 

...from the dust

 

this thought was born, to the

 

dust, the vision fades, in the dust

 

are the sparks, minerals, elements

 

of life, fertile fields, sow the seeds

 

 

...from the groves, the forms are

 

reborn, then the critters and grubs

 

swarm in, eating the scraps, ********

 

new life into the soil, new sparks

 

and minerals, eggs and chances,

 

rhythms for the new generations,

 

vibrant once more, a matter of

 

potent renditions, the breath fueling

 

the black depictions, white light geyser,

 

grey clouds, tarnished ores,

 

dirt and dust, all colored with the minerals

 

of light

 

...and in that light is solar life,

 

lunar reflections, Earthly fullfillment of

 

'son'shine, mother's milk, and dad's

 

beer brewing in the astro's firmament.

 

Dancing all through again and again of

 

swirvy curls, recollection of scattered pearls,

 

casted and then returned.

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Written by
aj-2
Published
Jun 14, 2012
Lines·Words
33·181
Notes

I may add more to this, ran out of Zen :j

Permission

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