The Last Organism


Frost of the north

In the sacred guild of
identity, we are golden
selves moving towards integration
in a cosmos more diverse

than our imaginations
billions of forms of intelligence
all following an order
majestic and grave and

simultaneously in their unity
there is no “I” in the
cell that speaks to the universe
only a persistent “we”

after bullets come spirits
after wars come books
after theater comes dialogue
this world one cell

in a body of many cells
in an organism that we
call the “universe” faster
than the speed of light

how does an universe find
enlightenment, in a sea of light?
When spreading means star-pollen
And time is just a metaphor

For space, and space is just
An expansion of life
So what are we as brains
And bodies and energy

After all, we are natives
of oxygen and light
born on water and breath
speaking the same language

as all living things speak
specters in an evolution
without an end, extinction for us
might mean other forms of

life survive, racing for Earths
giving space for other
creatures to have their turn
in the cycles of dream

in the dirty light we cannot
recycle, in the barren cities
where we ate bread and bred for
a while, until it was our time

to climb back into the source
that all men fall from their
duality, back to some essence
of what they once were;
and again must become.

Beholding the Lovely body of a Sunbeam


71

I yearn for completion
In the abstract tapestries
A beauty as soft as music, as wood

That sends a freshness
against the waves
of lights from a distant region

of the Universe, the shape
A new measure of mind
I yearn for completion

In truth and beauty
Of another world, with
The fragrance of unbroken springtime!

I yearn for some language of substance
Beyond the biological cravings
of flesh, sniffing twilight

the pangs of the hot heart
Which hunts the barrens
For some savage harvest
Beyond color, above sound.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/glade-nik-II-409224733