A Tree Of Life Entangled Roots # 13
A Tree of life was set upon the earth, well-kindled and breathing.
It standeth in the presence of all beings.
A wise purifier.
An ancient sapling that is always greeting.
It stands and is always able and willing to keep feeding.
Let the tree serve the gods,
for the tree of life lives naturally worthy of teaching.
Trees riddled the earth,
So then, who can know from whence it has arisen and when it will stop leaning ?
So, it riddles us all as we look to solve and discover life and our collective, as well as distinctive meanings.
We look outside of ourselves when inside of ourselves is where we should start seeking.
Reaching for what's beyond earth when what's beneath is where our hands
could diligently be reaching.
If only our hands were our feet,
Our feet would be careful whence they are constantly stepping and seething.
If only the eyes could be like the roots of the trees,
not looking outward or beneath the ground sleeping,
But inward, underneath, and wide-open,
then, we’d be awakened, and we’d
truthfully be dreaming.
Instead, we walk around blind while bleeding,
reaping, and grieving.
While the Trees stand still,
pleading, sowing righteously, freeing, and swinging.
Neither of us came into this world.
We are like the tree that came out of it perceiving.
Most find a certain irony in this truth,
and in actually seeing.
The only time some are digging
is when they're writing, researching, and or reading.
Trees spread entangled roots,
those without whom the earth would not be the earth.
There is a stored seed that ripens what is earthiest about one’s birth.
Tree’s nonvocal roots embodied our agitated beings,
all twisted and twirled.
Our rhetoric hands rive at the serene throat of the world.
Trees propel lifelines and nourish all in every country where corruption is rife.
Sadly, We use trees to reconcile ourselves to
the hollowness, the vanity, the fruitlessness of life.
Trees treasure their neighbors wandering in the wilderness.
Humanity abandons the earth,
and if the trees could talk, they’d say
"We come across very treacherous.”
Entangled roots may be, to some degree, merciless.
Still, wherever there is any level of natural unity, ontological being if you will,
there are, to some degree,
Entangled Roots and Innerness.
It standeth in the presence of all beings.
A wise purifier.
An ancient sapling that is always greeting.
It stands and is always able and willing to keep feeding.
Let the tree serve the gods,
for the tree of life lives naturally worthy of teaching.
Trees riddled the earth,
So then, who can know from whence it has arisen and when it will stop leaning ?
So, it riddles us all as we look to solve and discover life and our collective, as well as distinctive meanings.
We look outside of ourselves when inside of ourselves is where we should start seeking.
Reaching for what's beyond earth when what's beneath is where our hands
could diligently be reaching.
If only our hands were our feet,
Our feet would be careful whence they are constantly stepping and seething.
If only the eyes could be like the roots of the trees,
not looking outward or beneath the ground sleeping,
But inward, underneath, and wide-open,
then, we’d be awakened, and we’d
truthfully be dreaming.
Instead, we walk around blind while bleeding,
reaping, and grieving.
While the Trees stand still,
pleading, sowing righteously, freeing, and swinging.
Neither of us came into this world.
We are like the tree that came out of it perceiving.
Most find a certain irony in this truth,
and in actually seeing.
The only time some are digging
is when they're writing, researching, and or reading.
Trees spread entangled roots,
those without whom the earth would not be the earth.
There is a stored seed that ripens what is earthiest about one’s birth.
Tree’s nonvocal roots embodied our agitated beings,
all twisted and twirled.
Our rhetoric hands rive at the serene throat of the world.
Trees propel lifelines and nourish all in every country where corruption is rife.
Sadly, We use trees to reconcile ourselves to
the hollowness, the vanity, the fruitlessness of life.
Trees treasure their neighbors wandering in the wilderness.
Humanity abandons the earth,
and if the trees could talk, they’d say
"We come across very treacherous.”
Entangled roots may be, to some degree, merciless.
Still, wherever there is any level of natural unity, ontological being if you will,
there are, to some degree,
Entangled Roots and Innerness.