The Perfect Year

The perfect year, two equal halves. One with leaves one without. Forest thinning out. Bring indoors swing sets, pools, smiles, thoughts. Having enough and not much else is a lot. The transfer of funds is a loving gratitude for work well done. Not self-sufficient unless self is defined as family, community and nation. The world. Universe. Thus, I settle my haunches like a bear content, snug into coming winter. House will be warm notwithstanding the Muslim-Judeo-Christian condition not to mention the Hindu-Buddhist vortex. Searching space for an entity to unite us as humanity. Carbon-based, earthbound meeting, understanding and absorbing the clicking, algorithmic logic of passionately computing species, insects, machines, bacteria. A world moves only as fast as you think. If it moves faster you're not thinking, you're it, dead, chemicals redistributed in an ever more painless process. What are my feelings exactly? Systemic joy. Lovely the logic we have invented and applied identifying, specifying, classifying. It can keep you busy counting, praying while all the leaves are falling.