Apropos of Nothing

I stop, breathe, write.
I am in myself.

Mango Heart sits on my desk.
How shall I phrase this:
may I enjoy the success
of living with faith.

Emu concurs.
She's a little gray pussy cat kitten
with a rough pink tongue.

Topaz pupils,
is there anything as beautiful as the eye?
Nature is much more intelligent than humans.
And we are of it. In it. We are it.
Perfect.

I dance like Venus,
rotating in another direction
than all the rest.
I swim upstream, feel the bliss
in the push.

The planet Earth is an incredible thing.
It's like a clown car at the circus;
from this rocky ball
spinning at 24-hours-per-day speed
comes everything that we have produced:
The pink city at Rajastan,
Love Canal, the golden spruce, me, you,
all our stuff.

But it's' more than just the earth.
It all started with some hydrogen.
And various forces of nature
that made light of the dark.

I marvel at the inscrutable, undefinable
and oh-so-powerful creative energy
that manifests itself in me.
And you.
And everything we do.