I understand hearth
by intuition,
not by repetitions ;
but language
is our seperation.
From heavens in the earth grew
as waters of life poured,
as it glistened, sparkled - shone
it ran, sprouted, leap'ed
as great falls and roaring rivers,
to civilizations below it. .
Into Heirs were they poured
as oceans became
which carved rivers to fill
the chalices and cups.
as rain we fell,
as dew on the emptiness
as floods did
we pour over the lands
as a corpse it was,
barren, bleached it lay
before us then.
But such are humans nature,
as laissez faire exploits
it became as plastic to pollute
aires'n water as it flew,
for nothing was worked on
in stillness seeds rot.
As dead as it were,
was it dyed
embalmed then,
wrapped
and preserved.
For in the empty mind
is detachment,
but as a dried fruit it is
and we were made out
of the waters
not clay or specles of dust,
and Heirs did pour
life into the empty form
after it was empty,
as risen from a tomb only
emptiness remained.
All which grew was strangled,
by in emotions grasp :
In the piles on the riverbanks
was so few gems found
that the mountains weeped,
as the oceans dried out.
It was also there,
before it
it was the wind
as a breath
into lungs came.
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