I'm grateful for the unfolding

realities happen in the rightness

of their times

layers of becoming slowly exposed

at each revealing

striptease of being

truth is to uncover

recover

what's beneath surfaces

bubbling of what lies underneath

surfacing of hidden skeletal

details patterns of forms

she holds my tiny hand

as the other trace spirals

in the sand

sound of waves

announcing the receding tide

the moon pulls from the other side

absence of her reflected light

reveals flickering of long-lived stars

the arresting red hues of fungi

borne of mycelia running unseen

unwitnessed in their tending

the soil of possibilities

trampled by busybodies

bumping like predictable billiard balls

steam trains on the track

stations create a common time

bound by Bundy Clocks

tick tick tock tick tick tock

life in sync with optimising chron jobs

in misty clouds of silica guarded by guns

dot one's tongue

escape the logic

dig for the magic

reduction of absurdities

reconnect with the chaos

of turning

as we enter the age of air

unstable breezes from the hot desert lands

prophecies intercede on one's behalf

dry souls are best

suited for the culling

jihad for M'uad Dib

to see futures is a curse for living in the now

blind one's eyes

there's no escape from the tragedy of fate

the more I exercise freedoms

the more destined I am supposedly

listen to the secrets whispered under the rose

as I lick poison on fingertips jabbed

with blood a most special kind of juice

for fools, civil society has no use

to walk the unmapped paths

the bliss of choice in uncertainty

evolution borne of mistakes

in replicating what has been

unfaithful copying

creates danger, creates possibilities

creative destruction destructive creation

this body is not me

yet it materiality remains a mystery

matter is truly dark

dust the original sin of rebelling.