Between the Aether and the Mud

We live

somewhere 

between the aether

and the mud.

Dwelling on the

dirt of the lives

we inhabit,

abiding as a “we”

in the shelters of 

our being.

The simple and glorious

transcendence 

of the molecules 

we learn to call

thought or feeling; and

sometimes even desire,

haunt us with 

meanings

we are not always

given to understand.

And yet, 

we persist

in the mysterium tremendum

as waifs looking for porridge

each and every day. 

Something small

for our bowls;

a tiny morsel for

which we beg.

Angels 

bound to carcasses 

with a call to 

wonder and awe.  

And, in all the

fanfare of quarks and quasars

as they perform their

murmurations all about us,

we are given

small moments of pause

in which we can -

as we close our

eyes - drink in the

clambering vastness of

the Yosemite Valley 

or the damp loamy humus 

of Great Redwood Sequoias

or the sidewinding curves

of the Delaware River.

Only sight,

only smell;

leave the understanding

for another day.

For today, just leave room

for your center to hold all

it consumes in stillness

and repose;

chewing on it slowly, 

so as not to choke 

on the grandeur.