On that frame-less frame, the world.

They being painted by life itself,

With reality, the brush, holding them.

The painting ever evolving,

The frame continually changing,



Betwixt those two we,

Fill, and are fuller still.

Not grasp or let go, it's all we know,

Feeling's reeling in living art.

Our beingness, gleaned meanings

Shared, seen through, if we were there.