its core

This life is such a flower.

I am but a stem.

The petals of this life are strewn beneath the sky like stars, and form the constellations we call nations, every one a myth unto its own.

This stem is dearly thin, but full of earth itself.

This earth is fire, coated with a crust of ash but burning with the light of consciousness within its core.

I am yet no more.


~Peace to All and One,
Son Rivers