Every living thing, squeezes into this world,
Unfolding from wombs, pouches, husks, shells,
As faeries, angels, spirits, breathe o'er the spark,
That God whispers into each gelatinous frame.
Birthed or hatched, then into the world unfurled,
Each per it's kind, accepts what it needs to dwell,
To live, feed, grow, learn, as living things embark,
Then end, as dust to dust, as with the fading flame.
Though I walk a path distinct,
This path is yet akin to that,
Of flies,
Of dogs,
Of dinosaurs,
Or grass.
Each kind of animal moves over or under the earth,
In biomes deep and dark, or paths light and airy,
Mice among the mammals, snakes slide amid reptiles,
Insects, arachnids, octopi, fish, dwellers of the deep.
Astonishing intricacies, move in misery and mirth,
The preying upon are preyed upon -- all alive are wary.
So few live to slack their pace. What is the percentile,
Of each kind whose bark will crack 'ere they sleep?
Being one alive in this beautiful world,
The steps of my years, follows in the path,
Of beetles,
Of elephants,
Of dragons,
Of daisies.
Most humans become aware suckling at the breast,
Beloved, unbeloved, in first words and steps embark,
Into a world teeming with mythologies and histories.
Afar Eden's memory or reared in a house of prayer,
Branches from the trunk, tributary in endless quests,
As a sparkle of fireflies wanders woods flitting the dark,
So each human finds their place in creation's mysteries,
That doctrine, rites, sacraments mediate to make aware.
Though I walk where creed has led,
I see light interweaving my own steps,
From people of the book,
From Dharmic devotees,
Even of those far afield,
From every tribe.
Daemons, dark faeries collude with Mammon and Mars,
Disenchanting creation, dispiriting the human being.
Killing hope of the desperate is to snuff out the light,
On the altar of the soul -- profaned with human blood.
Away from my wayfaring as violence leaves its scars,
Wandering, not lost in ruins as the light that I am seeing,
The love that bleeds o'er faith story, tribe and plight.
That death itself will ebb one day and life return aflood.
The wonder of creation shared,
The wonders of living souls,
Exiled and violent,
Beloved and lovely,
Each alive and dying,
World without end.
