Treasure-Store World

A word forgets how to write itself A smile forgets who it first appeared for, Everything and nothing owns this treasure-store world. Tears sprout where laughter used to play Everywhere are the ghosts of dry fountains Which once poured out existence like a pitcher. Who has asked for nothing yet received all? Who hasn’t tried to go home to the singularity again Only to recall that there is no center? God and creation have no point of origin This is why everything JUST IS. An embrace down here is how we remind one another We are the heirs of omnipotent cause; Planets jostle at our lightest touch, And at the knifelike sound of a scream One galaxy cannibalizes another. Everything we know is a single exhalation In an endless stream of breaths: Remember you are only breathing so that you can create, And all created things contain the conscious whole of creation Safely stored within them.