Hey Man!
…hey man.
The best place to start
Is in your body
And at the very least…
It’s the best place to end up
This…is the original landscape
You may find it foreign
Now cities and citadels
Where there once was land
Birdsong…
Brookes…
And a simple functionality
Sometimes, I uproot
And drift back there
And he says to me:
It’s all accessible. Here. Now. It always has been.
It’s beneath the very ground that you stand upon.
If you could only plant yourself you would see:
Pasts, futures — entombed
Not trapped…
Sarcophagi
Adorned by us above
Our life is their embellishment
Our vitality is their life not wasted
Flesh eating, enriching soil
So that we may pick back up
Where they left off
You’ll know when they’ve received
A proper burial —
When the depth of your next human encounter
Rocks the substrata
Unsteadies your gait
Some may even topple over
Only to arise
A little lighter than before
No longer carrying a corpse
You open yourself back up
To attune yourself
To that which is pure
To that sweet birdsong
No longer haunted
By the bitter squawk
Of the circling vulture
