The Moment The Womb Unravels

We all want to run our own Broadway show Leave these trappings of time and place the moment the womb unravels its innards. Each body, each person is a wilting flower vase. We're all departmentalized in this world. Boxed contents, the volume of which is equal and yet disproportionate, whatever vibrations shape their path the framework of these people. They are all the same, glass half full, half-empty, they are like a divided ocean pivoting one way and then another moment another way we're all internationally, globally, commingling, mingling ah, all of creation, creation is singing listen to the hummingbird, the common nightingale listen to the New Guinea singing dog howl listen to the gibbon and the common quail. This world has its very own reggae-roots-musician, a music baton in an otherworldly 'Conductor's hand.' This world is a singing beluga whale the musical notations, connotations of which, we'll never understand.