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Odin & Mímir;
A one-eyed leader,
A paralyzed ascetic.
One traded vison for vison,
One traded appendage for appendage.
From two stylite existences,
Compassion for compassion.
Perspective for perspective,
From working together.

But is it all meant to be taken as mental?
But is it all meant to be taken literal?
A wave is a wave,
Like a particle is a particle.
A ripple,
A droplet.

Language is not important,
For all concepts are constants.

That is,
The truly objective
And not what is perspective.
That's science!
It's fun,
You'll love it.
You live it!

What I'm saying is
That language & languages change,
The nature of any one given
And those which are still spoken.

Other such things?
They fall apart,
They collapse into dust.
Returning from whence they came.

Paper degrades, wood burns,
Clay crumbles, stone erodes -
What is it? That always which continues?
Such things as the voice of truth & of logic.

As long as there are those who speak it,
As long as there are those
Who are both willing & capable.
All of which any may choose to learn.

History shows,
Only fools don't learn it.
Wisdom knows,
Only the wise really keep it.

So many ways to reduce it!
So many ways to expand upon it!
It's all about knowing!
It's all about sharing!
But it's all just perspective! Isn't it?
Someone stood on their head
Has a different perception
Of up & down.

That's why there's things like gravity.
To remind you,
Even in an avalanche,
Direction is not subjective -
Orientation is.

That's why there's different states of matter.
To remind you,
Even in a vacuum,
Being is not subjective -
Change is.
Kenshō 6d
Bloom is in season.
The birds sing for a reason.

The river's motion
Seems to have a notion
For every rock around the bend.

Mushrooms are smiling a tinge.

Not a thing is strange.
Infinity has no range.

Take a token.
The thing left unspoken:
What He thinks of Hymn.

The fields of time melt beneath my feet
And the rain is slightly sweet.

Dew of the divine drops
And gains back again.

Time is a loop of sorts,
Everything ends where it begins again.

Eternity is a moment
And it never ended again.

You know every drop ascends in

The End

Again.
We are not our thoughts,
because the mind can fall silent,
it can fade away...
But the heart will continue beating,
sustaining what we are.
Because if the heart dies,
there is no mind left to think,
nor soul to remember.
silvervi Apr 29
There is nothing wrong about aging. We all have been aging since we came to life. To exist means to age.
So why in some stages of our life we desperately wish to age and in others we try to escape it?
It has always been and will be an important and inevitable process inseparable from life itself. Can we learn to embrace it without judgement?
Sudzedrebel Apr 29
Slowly,
I passed by the treeline.
The weeds growing over the path,
The bricks weathered & chipped.
The breeze was chap.

Silently,
I walked down the path.
The reeds by the pond shooting up,
The shoreline lapping & beckoning.
The bees buzzed, the birds chirped.

Compassion walked beside,
Curiosity wandered nearby.

The branches drooped low,
The forests creaked with life.
Further along, a river flowed.
Delicate in its trace upon the landscape,
Yet sharp as a knife.

Lilypads adorn with lotus
Floated idly atop the pond surface.
Frog leaped, dragonfly darted by;
The fish jumped up from the water
And rested at my feet on the shore.

"Let's help this fellow out!"
"How peculiar! Out or back in?"

Slowly, silently;
Delicate in its trace upon the landscape.
Nearby, beside;
The bees buzzed, the birds chirped.
Passed by the treeline;
The breeze was chap, yet sharp as a knife.
Down the path;
The branches drooped, the forests creaked.
Darted, leaped;
The shoreline lapping & beckoning.
Wandered, walked;
The bricks weathered & chipped.
Darted, leaped;
Rested at my feet, the shore.
Walked, wandered;
Floated idly atop the pond surface.

Further along, a river flowed.
Sudzedrebel Apr 27
Spring comes
And I find myself fond of fall.
Summer dawns
And I admire more winter.
Fall arrives
And I cherish spring newly.
Winter blossoms
And I appreciate summer more clearly.
Shang Apr 26
I want to feel the day
from inside the end —
dreams, lips, god —
they are the past,
folded into light.

Memories sound so
different through
your ears,
like distant rivers
we once named hope.

The moon caressed
your cheek,
and I was once there,
a shadow caught
between breath and becoming.

Time unraveled
its silver thread,
tying our names
to the hush of stars.

We spoke in the language
of undone things,
our voices trembling
at the edge of always.

And in that stillness,
where all endings sing,
I felt the day
begin again
inside you.
for the moments that feel like both the beginning and the end
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