In awe of creation
I am
Not alone
There is just us
Like an ever flowing stream
Until the banks overflow
Into unquenchable cache
And from the breast
Of life
Sucking
I am left
Nothing more
Than write
This short poem, like many of my poems, has dueling parallel narratives. The first and foremost is the awesomeness of creation. The overflowing nature of this awesomeness is the abundance upon which life is rooted. Only when people start hoarding more than they need, banks overflow / Into unquenchable cache, does scarcity rear its ugly head. This utter misreading of reality leads only to perpetual scarcity, within and without. Whether experiencing awesome abundance and/or witnessing restless greed, I am often left with only the righting instrument of a poet. Write on!
