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Avant-God, Pantheism, Poetry


Ever wonder
how many sunrises
you have left in this life?

If you are thinking of a number,
stop whatever you are doing.
You are not free here.

Somebody owns the name you call yourself,
and it isn’t you.

This is what it means to say
your days are numbered
–in truth, they are numberless.
The sun never sets on you.

You feel like the fulcrum of a balance sheet
on which a whole world
teeters and totters?

I understand.
But trust me:
You don’t just stand on solid ground,

The world is a stage,
it won’t topple over
if you lay it down
and rest.

The sky awaits you, love.
So please,
find a piece of solitude
(or as you might call it, Oneness)
and greet the morning.

Even if you move not a muscle,
go somewhere.

you can’t go wrong.
The sun is always rising

Photo credit: Staci Nugent, at the former site of The Middle of Everywhere outside Lebanon, Kansas, Aug 2013

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