Bloom is in season.
The birds sing for a reason.

The river's motion
Seems to have a notion
For every rock around the bend.

Mushrooms are smiling a tinge.

Not a thing is strange.
Infinity has no range.

Take a token.
The thing left unspoken:
What He thinks of Hymn.

The fields of time melt beneath my feet
And the rain is slightly sweet.

Dew of the divine drops
And gains back again.

Time is a loop of sorts,
Everything ends where it begins again.

Eternity is a moment
And it never ended again.

You know every drop ascends in

The End

Again.

We are not our thoughts,
because the mind can fall silent,
it can fade away...
But the heart will continue beating,
sustaining what we are.
Because if the heart dies,
there is no mind left to think,
nor soul to remember.

There is nothing wrong about aging. We all have been aging since we came to life. To exist means to age.

Slowly,
I passed by the treeline.
The weeds growing over the path,
The bricks weathered & chipped.
The breeze was chap.

Silently,
I walked down the path.
The reeds by the pond shooting up,
The shoreline lapping & beckoning.
The bees buzzed, the birds chirped.

Compassion walked beside,
Curiosity wandered nearby.

The branches drooped low,
The forests creaked with life.
Further along, a river flowed.
Delicate in its trace upon the landscape,
Yet sharp as a knife.

Lilypads adorn with lotus
Floated idly atop the pond surface.
Frog leaped, dragonfly darted by;
The fish jumped up from the water
And rested at my feet on the shore.

"Let's help this fellow out!"
"How peculiar! Out or back in?"

Slowly, silently;
Delicate in its trace upon the landscape.
Nearby, beside;
The bees buzzed, the birds chirped.
Passed by the treeline;
The breeze was chap, yet sharp as a knife.
Down the path;
The branches drooped, the forests creaked.
Darted, leaped;
The shoreline lapping & beckoning.
Wandered, walked;
The bricks weathered & chipped.
Darted, leaped;
Rested at my feet, the shore.
Walked, wandered;
Floated idly atop the pond surface.

Further along, a river flowed.

Spring comes
And I find myself fond of fall.
Summer dawns
And I admire more winter.
Fall arrives
And I cherish spring newly.
Winter blossoms
And I appreciate summer more clearly.

I want to feel the day
from inside the end —
dreams, lips, god —
they are the past,
folded into light.

Memories sound so
different through
your ears,
like distant rivers
we once named hope.

The moon caressed
your cheek,
and I was once there,
a shadow caught
between breath and becoming.

Time unraveled
its silver thread,
tying our names
to the hush of stars.

We spoke in the language
of undone things,
our voices trembling
at the edge of always.

And in that stillness,
where all endings sing,
I felt the day
begin again
inside you.

****, this website
Just ate one of my works.

One which was a repost
From January of 2024.

Relating how I was delving deeper
Into quantum theory & mythology,
Into the sciences broadly & philosophy.

How I was going to mix them
And make them intermingled.

How I would mix that of my life,
Or more aptly how I write of it,
With that of new science & old antiquity.

By mythology, philosophy, & theology.

So as to create digestable content
That inter-wove those concepts
To better translate them to any given audience.

Mixing quantum theory & theology
To drive deeper, points of philosophy
That otherwise are lost
If, today, they come across
As too simplistic

Mixing my life & history with antiquity
Because so much of what is happening are
Trapped in patterns and sequences, being repeated
And to give life more interest and meaning

Compassion,
The path of all things.
To care about nothing
Would be to learn just the same.

Curiosity,
The drive of all things.
To have it about nothing
Would be to receive just the same.

And thus, we have our twins!
Two constants with reciprocal natures
In continuous flux, each a prerequisite of the other.

To coddle one too much
Means the deprivation of the other.
To neglect either
Means the neglect of each other.
That is,
To neglect either is to reject both.
To foster chaos is by either's rejection,
In that both shall neglect each other.

The incompassionate mind is not curious.
The uncurious mind is not compassionate.

As in, by our neural structures,
The ways we decide to go
Are like the paths which grow.
For you leave more than only footprints
Where no man has ever walked before.
Yet, that you leave nothing,
You constantly walk those roads.
Yet, that it is immaterial,
You still do so in the physical.
Yet, that it is material,
You still do so in the metaphysical.

For it's inbetween being betwixt,
For it's seperate & imperceptible.
For it's singular, yet collective.
For it's collective, yet individual.
For it's infinitesimal, yet infinite.
For it's eternal, yet finite in existence.

That is, existence like ice
Slowly melting into water.
That it remains the same,
But changes & fluctuates
Relative to any environment.
As like with the constraints of time,
Actions outward of the body.
Action of the outward body.
In relation to it,
Matter unchanged
But translated via a different state.

Celebrate.
To live is for life,
But we all die sometime!
Yet, is this change?
Transmutation by that of another order?

Something perennial, yet still coming into being.
Something endless, yet but only just beginning.
Something futuristic, yet which is already happening.