The Snowflakes and the Fallow Apples

The snowflakes and

the fallow apples are

attentive to the murmur;

whispering its ambient

awe; its implicit wonder

and astonishment at the

emptiness lingering

quietly behind life's void

and abyss. The ten-thousand

and one things that make up

the compressed reality of

the universe are mostly just

beyond our grasp -

slightly beyond our view

and known knowing.

We are less than a crackling

spark in the universe

of everything.  And yet,

can we not seek to hold

this knowing forward

in our neo-cortex to the

avail that we would become

wildly opened to the

mystery of our great

fortune in this small and

minuscule layer of gray

matter in our skull.

Is not the gate to the

thousand alleged paradises

found in that series of

crenulations wrapped around

our bicameral brain and lymbic

stem.  Our tree of knowledge

starts at the base of our spine

and grows into this final

frontier of knowing and

intuition.  Is it not torn

asunder when we marvel at the mystery

in how snowflakes seemingly

bounce through the air

mingling with smoke from our

fire; and how apple groves are

pondering relentlessly as they

sit still and quiet in the winter

of their known and unknown knowing.

A leaf waiting to

become

dirt.