Where did we come from?
asked winter, of gratitude.
Who and what are we becoming and belonging?
asked spring, of hope.
Where are we going?
asked summer, of faith.
How did we get here, again?
asks fall, with incarnating grace,
winnowing harvest’s climatic outcomes,
regenerative, redeem-and-balance, economic mind.
Each life,
and all life,
is a coincidental ReGenesis Project.
How are yours coming along?
Why would I care enough
to open your story?
Why don’t I care enough
to fill you in to mine?
I love your wild willingness,
can’t say the same for our willfulness
to exchange our belonging
for side-by-side longing.
for being karma’s relentless becoming
when we could more peacefully
become simple incarnate beings.
Prime being together
feeds my soul to yours,
organic compost
sublime breakfast
wild beings
with stir-flying nice.
Natural nutrients grow strong values
folding our stories with care.
I long to write a silent song;
ringing resonant rising
round revolving reach,
risk relaxing riots,
quiet storming streams,
sentient string
waiting your
our
sharing story,
advent’s adventure
deep despair diving
diastolic drifting
out beyond sonorous sea seasons
sweeping flight to gather might,
speaking slyly deep
down steaming volcanoed channels
reaching roots of listening
into Earth’s core chi-soul.
Speak, justly shout enchanting contention
churning charry content,
informating reasons
fine-purposed meanings
boiling funnel tipping
turning spinning
spilling waves of Tao balance
revolving temperamental cross,
straining yang from West to East
reversing yin from East to West
like longing lingering
loitering within belonging
becoming being
yin’s right spins left
good’s evil space
wrestling voices
murmuring
pulsing
massaging rhythm’s blood flows
flying frequencies
echoing past identities
of storms still-dancing
through memory’s veins
and river swollen
spring’s raucous roaring
songs singing silence
I long to write.
I could not be so positive
without not(not) as double negative
binomially defining
what is not
not and what must be
more positive
you see,
or not.
This double negative binding
positive
hurts my bicameral brain
intuiting what is not too Right
deducing what could be Left
for permacultural imaginings
synaptic sap
reverses
not aptic snap
fusing neural patterns
of polyculturing positives
synergetically overwhelming this knot of
double nots.
To be
is to belong
I hope a positive phenomenon.
But, to long
is not to not be
it’s simply a not
waiting for a second,
to not not long
brings becoming grace
and not karmic knots
in negative space
without a proper place
for knotish naughty
not-not negativity.
So
not not
positivity
defines
perpetuates
appositions
negativity;
yet
yes yes
is not negativity,
maybe vexed redundancy,
which is why I think I am
is twice as likely
as I am not.
We are permacultured children of our
Elder Gods and Goddesses.
The Goddess voice within,
nurturing our peace-filled hearts.
The God voice without
speaking through rhythms and patterns
frequencies and functions,
metrics and symbols,
longings and belongings,
longing before language
even before sight,
when “Other”s voice
covered mind-filled aptic Being.
The God voice says
“I am not Other!”
The Goddess voice reminds
“Shall we regenerate each Other?”
And, so it is we rejoin our Elder pilgrimage
conclude our Yangish detour,
re-connect the Oracles
from whom we descend
toward whom we ascend
through left/right-brained research mission accomplishing.
To comprehend our meaning
we would understand positive purpose
dis-covering Other’s logos voice
re-ligioning
re-joining what deduction temporarily,
spatially,
dismantled,
a necessary dominance now outgrown,
toward optimizing comprehensive integrity
of synergy with love,
longing with belonging,
God voice with Goddess graced ecology of mythos,
Yang with Yin.
To re-member RNA’s prime temporally unfolding code
where +U was God
and -C is always Goddess
is not idolatry
so much as Elder Wisdom worship.
We are a polycultured bicameral species
re-covering our sanity,
sustained Golden Rule replacing
pledged allegiance:
I respond with and to others,
regardless of species,
whether I am predisposed to them as “positive” or “negative,”
whether they are alive in this moment,
or in the past,
or in the future,
as I want to be inclusively,
resiliently,
equitably
and sustainably treated,
I interdependently and integrally develop our economy,
an ecology of positive vocation and play
communication and comprehension
optimizing our potential abun-dance
as globally polycultured
and eco-balanced players
and singers,
story-tellers and dancers.
Listening to my adolescent sons
I learn to see their world,
an unfairly disturbing alienating place
that has no space or grace for them,
a dirty duty toxic bug-filled threat
best kept outside locked door
with interior womb-like lit by world-wide monitor
and games for joining with each other
this tournament of vast cooperation.
Where “I” am U
and U can -C “me.”
No time to hide,
the God and Goddessed Elders
are justly remembering
their mutually dancing roots.
When hungry [+0=Yang],
dig for tender roots [-1=Yin].
As U becomes C
and C becomes U
graceful dance of generativity.
Pupils do not smile;
they do shrink or swell
inviting light’s response,
or not so much.
Beauty bursts surprising grace in place and space.
But infatuation,
addictive potential love of beauty,
hope becoming faith,
sustained or unsustainable through repeating peace recovery.
Beauty grows through relationship,
the surface of goodness,
wellness,
or even excess.
Creative beauty thrives through time
each moment we return to places
where rejoin our longing and belonging
our purpose with our meaning
our becoming in this being
our function in this in-formation
at this time
and in this relationship of home.
Pupils do not smile so much as mutually swell.
It feels wrong to commodify each day,
means to exclusively reclusive ends.
What mortality?
A night of dreams,
of merging id-entities into insight,
developing,
burgeoning coincidental awareness,
to arrive at co-prehensive moment
in morning’s meditation?
It feels right to full measure each day’s rhythm,
to respectfully dignify
our burgeoning story line’s
middle,
then commencement.
Each day a place of pilgrimage,
reauthoring our journey,
resting in rich place of gratitude
for gift of this eternal day’s promise;
fulfilling transition.
It feels wrong to commodify each moment,
means to ends.
What end?
Each life’s potential integrity
flows right and true,
radically replete song and dance,
engorged sustenance;
mindful,
graceful karma,
resonant resolutions.
Choosing rich eternal life
toward next moment’s transitioning abundance,
from prior moment’s integrity;
fulfilling
within time’s envelope
this day’s gifting economy.
gdill52 