merchant poem

wrote this little diddy at work the other day, enjoi

It's easy to forget

for those who never try 

how quickly the waters of consciousness can turn tempest

Form 

and degradation 

Blossom and deterioration. 

The one flower of consciousness

the lotus 

The flower must be watered, with the ink of the pen

though archaic.

Until we not only observe, but realize. 

we are one, the soft hum, the infinite ocean of love, 

which we all sprang from, even as microbial organisms, so to speak 

And so who will tell

the story of the man

who came to dance, 

the physical gospel 

the dancing jesus and the funky buddha 

the strange man who marched into the business meetings 

and drank all the water