Intro Missive

Intro Missive
.
.
I wake up; I am what?
How do I be?  What can I do? What is my mission,
or necessity?  Is this I a being, a meaning, a part of a plan?
Will there be happening?
What next?
.
Wheels and fields of visions, infinite recession,
intricate decisions embedded, embroidered,
successes, negations, bright blue infused warm
breeze – at play above rustle of green.
.
Summer leaves burn into firebright mottle,
fall and fly, darkening sky, woodsmoke, porch lights,
soft etch of letters on windowbreath.
Soft touch of wandering tears, brushed aside.
Smile to teakettle’s song and throw a little jig to say:
we settle here, make a dance of each day,
crumble to rest.
.
There is more, much more, little and wide, hidden
inside mind folds secret/scarred/set free.
Look, see, immerse and imbibe, understand —
wattle in layers of seaweed, sand, brittle shards,
magic glass of prophecies and transcendent art.
.
My will wanders.  I shall abide.  Await reply.
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