With every breath
Every touch
Every thoughtfeelingdream
Joysorrow pain and healing
The map of our soul multiplies -
An infinite fractal reflection
Of the universal design

And we move further away
From simple answers

I sit atop a mountain and beneath a tree reveling in ecstasy as I gaze upon the divine.

It is here that God chose to experience itself.  From the snow
dusted slopes, to the lightly coated trees, all is as it should be.

My eyes journey from the frozen water particles to the plant life struggling to keep its heat above a crystalline sea, and onward to the mist that enshrouds the mountain….I cannot help but stare in wonder at the spectacle of god presenting itself in its many fractal forms.

Solidified energy falls softly
in an attempt to build itself ever higher.  

The transference of purity puts on a show for those souls with open eyes.

Above me is a comforting blanket of particles,
falling, crying out as they land
“I am!”

Emanating from the most minute pine leaf to the mountain itself arises a silent shout of existence.  It is here that I may be at peace, with the ever present reminder that everything simply is. How would it be if a snowflake judged itself…would it be judged by its tumultuous formation?  how conclusive it's landing? or the quality of its travels?  

Nay, it forsakes judgement because its perfection is stated quite firmly
in the present moment.  Here above the cities

and in the mountains it is cold.  

Paradoxically, it is here where I am stripped bare and proclaim myself warm and free.  Thank you life.

The tone is a human,
a human is a being,
and a being,
is a tone.
The tone is a being.

When one human sings,
they create a tone.
A tone that carries
all tones within.

When two humans sing,
they create two tones.
Two tones that carry
all tones within.

They are making love,
They are making a harmony,
and the harmony
is a child.

The union of two,
the child carries all
the vibrations of one,
and all of the other.

Every harmony carries
all harmonies within.

The child is one,
The child is twice one,
The child is half of each,
and infinitely more than none.

The harmony is a child,
and the child sings.

The child is human,
and the human grows.

When a human sings
they create a tone.
This tone carries
all tones within.

The tone is a being.

The being is one,
The being is twice one,
The being is half of each,
and infinitely more than none.

Each being carries all beings within.

When the being sings,
it creates a tone,
this tone carries
all tones within.

Be as a kaleidoscope
and fractalize the mind.
Embrace the dichroic glass,
and break what limits bind.

Smoother than a marble egg,
yet tempered more than brass,
bemuse yourself entirely
with Millefiori glass.

For in its mystic ampule
birefringent voices dance,
and visions come together
should time befit the chance.

No turn, nor shake, nor twist
can break its hallowed grace.
Acknowledge its diversity
and revel in azoth space.

Its symmetry is blithe at times,
yet stunning through and through,
and dashing through its mirrored hall,
the light shall come to you.

There is beauty in a beam of light.
Caress its warmth and hope.
How wondrous still that beauty grows
with a simple kaleidoscope.

It's been a time and a half
And I finally understand
The reason you've gone
With the shaman so long.
The spirit is free.
I'm a color
Splintered in three.
Crystalline
Crystal eyes
Well spoken with diction.
Many a words I've spoken
Have been in ode
Romancing you with every breath

In the desert
The door is ajar
We trace the steps of Aztec gods
1/3 becomes 2/4
The sands gleam emerald
Our bodies elongate to equine form
We blended the horizon line

Quetzalcoatl stands before me
Serpent in feathers
Glows like the spectrum all together.

He hands me a seed.
And his
Eyes smother like lightning.
And I
Speak in codexed volition.
And we
Blur the horizon line once more.

I stand on the Pacific
20,000 leagues
Equine force
Carries me to the beach.
Sand once more.

I feel a twitch in my jaw.
Each hand holds a mandible
And pulls.
Roots emerge
And a tree not soon after.

Is this what the seed was for?
I trot the beach,
Jaw no longer in tact.
My pallor flesh caked in coagulate
Almost recreates my tan skin
A gift from the god.

I've been on this beach for miles,
And
Miles
And
Two whiles.
My architecture meanders
The brevity of sanity.
One eye sees black,
The other sees fine.
My hair has become matted
It knots behind each earlobe
And drags on below my knees.

Is this what Quetzalcoatl wanted?
To see me sifted with the grains of sand
In the palm of a child's hand
At the beach
While on vacation
With mom and dad?

20,000 years have passed.