A Trick is Perspective

Gravity is a constant Trickster.

I am so incredibly sad.
Alcohol is a poison,
As is any poor relation.

I can do anything and go 
Anywhere I want. I am free.
Nothing except gravity controls me.
I am a leaf connected to, loved by a tree.

There is no justice for the ego save that which is 
Held by universe. And by the time I get there
All I find is concept-confounding, quiet, 
Unassuming, mischievous mystery;

What’s beyond being ancient, the lithic 
Scraps of earth DNA memory 
Whispering the Presence of something Divine,
And the way in which it comes to me:

Quiet and supernatural, like
Spiders flying in the breeze,
Stones, 
Bones of trees,

Feathers and space ice in the ocean this eve.
Praise for the new names being revealed to me!
For what side of the sword we may be on
Is the heartspace we’re choosing to come from.