Perpetuity

The moment,

when birth fleetingly assumes

its foreshadowing as childhood,

quantum movement begins,

and like growing bark upon the tree,

nourishment conveys the first branch.

Vigorous ramparts shield paternal wrath,

ongoing obstinacy grows its arms

out of reach for pruning to control.

Lightning delivers the hand of the ethereal,

caressing the indolent leaves of awakening

with winds to arouse passions,

rain to bathe its bowers,

arousing prone-lain lessons

amidst roots soon entangled.

Saplings arise

while nurture's pleading persists,

awakenings loom defiantly amongst the dreams

into nightmares,

into the womb of possibilities

 to plant

to grow

to forest

to burn.

Life’s ashes scatter into dusty playgrounds of eternity,

finding foundation,

discovering yet further beginnings,

becoming perhaps flowers to color carpets anew.

Might there be a garden

among the unseen mist of yesterday's lessons,

reaching yet to further light,

obsessing a daily allotment of irrigation's tears?

For this blooming of time,

this mounting the stage of cultivation's performance

is where we become at one with seedlings,

with girths circular age,

with branches directional,

up,

down,

across,

wherever shadows seek luminance.

For versions of reality remain forever growing,

searching for yet another origin beneath eternity’s shelter,

where essence is seeking but the next essence.

The I.

The we.

The all of perpetuity.