Impact

I try to be
as unbusy

as I can be.

Business,
hurts me.

Leaves
no time
for receiving

no space
for a breeze

to waft through

and stoke
the embers
in me.

I need air around me.

Silence
to bow

before
crickets chorusing.

Stillness
to allow

wisdom to
root-in

deeply.

Why
we insist
on believing

that wholeness exists
in adding,

is beyond me.

Subtracting
is deep life
love-making.

Savouring.
Marinating.

Let culture
keep its busy

it’s not importance:
it’s impotence.

Everyone spread so thin
they forget the “I am”

the wisdom
of pleasure
and silence.

I’ll be outside
listening to trees
teaching

on the intelligence
of dew
and matter.

I’ll be
inhaling deeply

the gnosis of
butterfly wing flutter.

I’ll be opening
filling

RECEIVING
ether.

Before erupting
as Her fire.

*

Only then
will I burn
through town

ignite streets
disperse crowds,
take signage down.

move paper – reverently –
from one side of the
factory, to another.

DO.

Wholly.
Completely.

Before
unbecoming

fire.

Before returning
to

being
(ember)