in tranquil repose, we so chose
to discard conditioned belief
whence like the phoenix, bliss mists rose
granting soul much needed relief
formless presence poised in the void
drew in its heart, scattered intent
that essence of light unalloyed
grants agape love soul’s full consent
in staid stillness, energy peaked
breath retained, awaiting release
kissed by the mist, heart now love-streaked
breathed out grace with nonchalant ease
Looking at flowers, then leaves, I began to wonder about the roots and seeds. Yes, I thought, that's what I learned in Biology, Botany, Biodiversity ... But a brilliant, brainy, breath-takingly beautiful budgerigar whispered to me:
"You are "thought" [taught to think in boxes, as PT says] to objectify Nature from birth, almost. For us critters, the entire plant or tree is one of us, a community where we help, house, and hallow each other. It is all ONE life form, don''t you see. What are leaves but flowers yet to be? What are flowers but leaves modified for reproduction? Are your reproductive organs separate in type and origin than the rest of your body? Don't humans start life as one-and-two cells? Don't you see the seed - small and insignificant, perhaps - carries generations of trees, fruit, food, and shelter in it?"
Sonnet 03252017: POTENTIALITY
Today, a day of smiles and late thawing
Despite Man Winter’s stubborn lingering
Today – I saw my first butterfly
First of Spring - weeks later I would know why
Robins darting up then down behind me
Uncommon in commonly seen beauty
With today’s solitary butterfly
Season to sow seeds that will multiply
Into springs of potentiality
Unlike fishing for death, corollary
Of leisure, eyes, on water - not sky
Where goes our fragile, yellow butterfly
Dirt is sacred form; water – it’s lifeblood;
Sky, source of smiles in today’s neighborhood.
© A. S. Deo’s 2000 poem edited today
A gift, a blossom not yet budded,
Potential for beauty or destruction,
Pure in intention and hopes so
Sweet, dances in the pouring rain
And tears mingling, joy and pain
Protected in one enclosing circle.
Cherished, precious words and glances
So gentle, touch of beating hearts,
A journey ended to begin
Anew, two roads becoming one,
Filled with landslides, rocks
And soft mossy patches too.
Equally unique and of one mind,
Giving by desire, not requirement,
Loyal until the sweetest end.
Truth love limitless
Give unto the self first
Be possibility
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