Out of a barren wasteland of death and destruction,Comes lush and verdant blooms of creation.Are we so removed from this natural rhythm,Our corpses fed upon by a hungry schism? Searching for balance and order, creating false borders.Seeking purpose and meaning, forever feening.Purpose built without a clue.Delusional grip on limited view. Be stilled in the wild, … More From Death Comes New Life

Allow feeling its rightful place.Experience, the very purpose.Embracing life’s offerings.Loosely grasping at the surface. It comes, it goes.Impermanence ebbs and flows. Great mother’s bloom.Rising from ancestral tomb. Many fruit lay bitter sweet.No less joy found to eat. All must rest in earthly slumber.Rising whole in greater number.