flowing is flowing along a flowing.
to the mind it's a great tectonic & evolutionary
struggle resulting in river & shoreline but
for consciousness there's nothing to it.
a rose by any other name is still not a rose.
docks are the mind of the river, holding
an inevitable flotilla against the flowing.
you can never think your way to love.
a fluttering of orange threading through a shivering of green
through which a flowing of invisibility is breathing.
a butterfly is witchgrass which is zephyr.
when you as consciousness know yourself,
in no time at all even an earthworm, even earth
itself, knows itself as that perfect pure awareness.
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