the irrelevance of the sacred
true chaos of geology
explode containing more than pseudo sacred geometry
relentlessly existing
in the remainders of a surviving rim
a deep botanical heart
in a gondwana of wonder
where water away moves always
falling or fallen
coursing rendering clean
will coursing clean me too
come course with me
down a wet wild valley
if I were the valley
green with a secret heart
of trickle tickle and
scale that dwarfs the so far tiny (who cower knowledgeably)
receiving early reminders or just awakenings
to cellular truths never not known
by those who not so long ago
were not born
then we
lying on fragments of the exploded
now a millennial residue
just beautiful debris
and bigness
all the way up to light at the ridges
golden and glory
a heartshaped hemisphere
the face of the rock
the face of love
i would wear the delicate raiment
of forever’s fine fungal lace
moss green
but never with envy
for falls will fall, or fall silent
and cannot protest the loneliness
of the simple charge to
fall
to forever be left by water
running.

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