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In a lego world, anything is lego possible,
even hair on lego heads blowing off, and
being mistaken for an acorn cap,
then I think of dolls with acorn heads and
smile, at the multiplicity of ways to imagine
models of reality where whatiferies are tried,
judgment day in the old village of the ancestors,
eh, right, who we danced for, when we was kids.
We learned the way, not the why, time is too tight.
So we rebelled
at the fascist way, busted loose, ax me
do we worry, non
sensed
not since I can't remember when…
fret not, said the child who believed, because
he was told, God's got everything under control.
Jesus winked, and said winds do as they please,
within the atmosphere we breathe and be in.
Winds free wills fix artistry as trying art, umph
at tension, wills filled with mistaken angst, un let
go. Loosen wills to flow down hill, imagine canals
that drained the marshlands all fill up in disuse,
and the world's slow cycle of balance originally
intended when mankind became science wise,
appears to
hold the pattern, see the design,
find a pattern,
say truth showed you,
so the old man say go see,
rethink realization in your imagination, pattern
re-co-knowing mindform made on recognition,
all dressed up. No place to go.
Yes, each effort sows a seed, a laugh, a tear, a wisht know. Curious arts.
https://nativeamerica.travel/tribes/campo-kumeyaay-nation, I live on their land.
