Pine cones are delicious golden sections in conversation with sun.
They open arms to worship Shams, their old dry bones symphonic.
Pine cone prayer takes its time. If we have patience, we will persevere.
All of these things are secrets we sometimes know and then not.
Cows graze on grass sprung from our garbage. We cut this Truth open with hallal knives
Because we cannot get enough of this meat. We dress the meat according to tongue.
No matter its presentation, the essence is the same. The source, what we really crave.
All of these things are secrets we sometimes know and then not.
A couple rowing away into sea can be your future or your past.
The boat cuts water into ripple effects. Remember! This is a window to the present.
See it for what it is. Without looking, without knowing.
All of these things are secrets we sometimes know and then not.
This wood white page helps me cut Truth into sheets of understanding.
My love is a leaf pressed inside. Speaking can be lamb’s wool for the ear.
Hell and heaven are not just ideas, they are real.
All of these things are secrets we sometimes know and then not.
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