May 27 by The Running Son
the loɤe aɗɗition
Birth and death circle life,
but contain life or sleep.
In these four, many secrets turn
lidded eyes toward living,
keeping death with its keep.
The sleeping living wake,
to find life streaming, and deep.
The woken also find the end waiting
by, and open hearts churn,
then steep, learning to take
every step with earned pride,
and a giving back to life,
where life has opened its eyes
and died a thousand times
for us. Then went universe-wide.
All four corners, and back.
Breath to the four winds.
Gathered all elements, and sighed,
opening a dew-glazed path
styled in interlocking rings, and math.
I am equasioning the four-fold path–
questioning life chapters
like closed eyes question the aftermath
of waking up, blind
to where earths poles are at.
Or being born out of time
and finding sleeping pasts
to climb in to, incubate in, and wait
for soul-storms to pass, maybe abate.
Born into life, then life, then into sleep!
If we pass while asleep, we birth life,
keeping breath, a stream, moving
through generations of living
wakers, life-giving and heart-wide,
dividing four into one open circle:
love, a four-fold journey.
by Jim Aldrich
.namaste. -• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •- .namaste.
blu butterflies live freee.