Poem: Poet Philosopher
to be tacked upon cathedrals and posted on digital walls
where everyone in the world goes to look
at what isn’t happening to them. It has thusly been decreed
that He is I and I is He – another way to say
that I is We, and He and You and all that ever was.
It’s all in here.
The decision has been made – by who or whom or what, no one can say.
Royalty or slave, predator or prey, your divine purpose
is to be of service to God, God being Nature and living creatures and
everything that’s here and everything that isn’t.
Your brothers and sisters, the ones who aren’t born yet, the ones whose shells
you might one lifetime inhabit – everyone is qualified, despite what merchants in the religion trade
Heretofore and hencewith, for seventeen millennia and the next few hours,
I have myself convinced that the finest way to answer the question
is to share whatever it is one does best or most naturally or with the most grace
and share it with the world
really share, not merely as a flickering status update but as in how
the flower shares her pollen with the bee
and he shares the fruit of his labor with us
We write philosophical poems that aspire to be about