Living for Life

Are there those knowing
not of avarice beneath the cloth,
exposing elements innate,
allowing light of trajectories
to seek is-ness of path?

Do such persons wander
freely as fluff from cottonwood,
floating warily
to avoid clinging,
and death?

Is there drinking
little of glory,
but openly embracing encounters,
knowing each moment
upon the desert enforces
gratitude for water’s small reward?

Do they embrace verdicts
as always a quenching of
ones own creation,
the creating of one’s own reality?

Wondrous,
these feathered creatures that soar,
these scaled antiquities that swim,
these cells that clamor,
whether confined in Petri dish,
or within a protective mother's umbilical nourishing.

Resolve…
Be not victim,
or bearer of sword.

Quash not the thunder
or find discomfort from rain,
for liquid knows forward-down,
as flowers know up,
as the unborn sense beyond.

Yes…
We are Here;
Man either accepting his existence
as part of infinity's spec-like dust evolution
or
begrudging eternity’s cyclical essence as unfair.

To be
or
not to be,
as the Bard always knew,
is but the journey of
nature's womb to nurture.

The fortunate understand
that breath has a time-table to meet,
as birth’s moment of cries
beckoning to the eternal echoes,
announcing the exit of Was for
for a different life that Is.

Such begins the alive moment to moment awareness,
the quest to live for life.