When We Were Eight

When you were eight years old waking to another perfect day's dawn what potential did you discover with your co-empathy integrity of left-deductive with elder right inductive communionations? Who were you as you stepped into morning's warm spring sun? How were you one of "us" and how many species were included before AnthroPrivilege was even born? What voices were your first prophets of school year's end and summer's leisurely recreation of imagination? How did you hear former lives of love's future past role play expansion? Languishing loved laughter replacing more challenging team sports requiring a win-lose assumption, and visual distinctions between left space in right time. invisible to your eyes? What were you doing lying flat on your stomach in dutch clovered lawn's grasses? Looking down into a miniature jungle without water in dry riverbeds, forest for ants and other insect tribes, their neighbors our troubled nations and fragile ecosystems and polarizing monocultures supplanting contented climates of regeneration Innocence interrupted by great transitional revolutions, critical economic and political issues with vast cooperative-global opportunities lying between and within these panentheistic communications from Earth's monolithic DNA/RNA non(0)-soul Refractive creation stories, some with advantages and risks and beauty of flight, landing lightly in grass-blade tree tops as ants pursue more industrial economies of richly nutritional value below, sweet crystalline treasures Jewels for QueenMother Gaia's healthy investment in embryonic shabbat vocation developing human naturally regenerative time enough for health optimization Endosymbiosis of a new Earth generation of flying and swarming occupiers, Bodhisattva Warriors for co-empathic peace with interminable cooperative faith in this integrity of nature's ecological jungle. Where was your family-owned business incorporating love with truth and hope for more inclusive faith? lFexible enough to include boys vulnerably drawn to love other boys' eyes and skin and hearts and mindbodies, more than girls' laughter and light heartedness? How did you invest your perfect humid August days, breathing Lake Michigan's thick air, reading sultry Gone With The Wind in wonder of such rich sensual diversity of spirit and unnatural ownership, of WinLose disasters disguising entitled stupidity of nobility both within and despite poverty of mendacity both within and despite superfluously competitive wealth commodifying even beauty and power and nobility and darkly rich fertile race? Why did you love this embracing place of multigenerational space, your private familial sangha farm balancing your bicameral heart and lungs mind and limbs in love's familial yet often over meat-headed, overcooked-vegetative embrace? Touchy about gay-filled grace so that no other place could ever bring this transubstantiating home again, so that each other space might ever bring this spring moment back to polycultural home regained? When we were eight still remembering embryonic Outside/Inside MotherEarth's mediating streams of dreams, Time's co-passioned econsciousness.