Art In Plain Sight
Salt, April 2015
We appear as two clods of earth,
you and I,
nearly as inert as rocks
with a secret.
We each embrace an eternal seed.
It has been softened by our tears of joy and sorrow.
Now, it stirs and begins to sprout, root and branch.
Drinking our muddy substance, it grows.
Rooted beyond time, it consumes our limitations and prospers.
In due season, it bears fruit
that ripens and yields to the touch.
And so, we become the Tree of Life.
In time, our earthy identity is consumed, used up
what remains is so grand,
no one will care.
No one will care.
your breath rise and fall
with the aspirations of the whole creation?
every particle of creation ravish you
with an insane love for the creator?
nothing shake your passionate gratitude
for the simple gift of life?
to this blessed pitch
if every moment of your life
does not resemble
one prolonged, wet kiss
with the Divine,
it is your right,
your sacred duty
to be dissatisfied