A Silly Little Finger Poem
He points a finger at the moon.
I ask him, what’s a finger?
He points a finger at himself.
I ask him, who are you?
He points a finger at myself.
I ask him, who am I?
He points a finger at the moon.
~Peace to All and One,
Son Rivers
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Mountain blue bird you fly with ease.
Treeplanting bondage with fecund earth.
Yet I slither and plant hither.
For you mom I demand you be fed the best of beings.
For you mother I will open the whole to psyche and let shine forth my beauty. Denzo
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