Sometimes we cannot look at a thing directly,
only its reflection.
The connection to Source made through pulsing perception.
Careless gaze an invitation
to our own destruction,
as Medusa rendered immobile
any who would not humble
themselves in the presence
of the primal life force.
Sunlight is blinding straight on.
But we can witness it in rippling sparkling water,
the brilliance of the Moon,
the effulgence of our songs.
Wind can only be seen by its effect.
The force of its motion only visible on what it has moved.
Music is intangible,
its essence undefinable.
It cannot be felt with skin,
or deciphered with mind,
yet it transforms time,
spirals into our cells,
entrains our hearts with rhythmic spells,
sparks awake our DNA
in a chain reaction of activation
until there is no telling
who is playing,
and who is being played.
Water is immobile on its own
yet ever flowing
on this planet beholden
to gravity and slope,
wind and condensation,
rapid temperature fluctuation,
and all the things that give water her properties.
Life is made of life.
We are all built of the selfsame dust,
dependent upon gravity and fire to become stars.
Nature knows no such thing as isolation.
This dimension is made of mirrors.
We are defined by our interpenetration
It is the dappling of sunlight that gives it meaning
and allows our perceiving.
The wind-made waves that let us observe the water
as it reflects the bottomless sky.