Our Soul's Star

How does the gravity of the mind orbit

Our soul’s star

Weightless spirit harnessed

by shackles of

Industry

Clock backwards

Consolation unsealed, understanding of

Condensation, ‘round mountain tops

Unpredictable flowing of lava consciousness

Seeds buried by elemental forces, obeying

Wind, Pressure, Heat, Mixture, Synthesis

While mulch of cerebral deciduousness 

Churns the recycled pattern of geography

All spirit has a story to preserve

The mind is an open mine, headlamp

Required and inspected

The tools of illumination are sought

After

The rest have been sharpened, breaths taken,

Spacious connection to pre-time, to prefix

Time, with no time

An untold story, everyone can repeat and try

Curiousness, while knowing everything 

Duality of mind, complete as one thought

As untold eras of rich availability, and

perseverance of mineral, rock and Earth

Extension of body into a cosmic realm, how

fire, from within and without, morphs

the understanding of handheld

Wonderment

Confined to rules, overarching functionality 

of realm, offering the challenge

Connection of inner to outer

Mastery of intuitive movement

Spread of knowledge by way of material

Selfishness

Rock wanted to be known, talked to and

Used, before and with other materials - is our

mind our own, or pieces to the mother mind?

pushing atoms through various mediums, in

space and atmospheres, so as to give said

atoms a way to experience consciousness 

stand alone materials become thought, and

ingested atoms begin to know the

material at hand by way of another medium, 

these eyes utilize nutrition and tools in 

various ways

So, then, rock can experience itself on

a human level

We make all things human, by their use in

our lives

Does nature then, for the entirety of time, know it has

choreographed a human dance, one filled 

with falls and scrapes, yet when the dancer is dead,

nature continues the song

The earthly form is parallel to the bodily one

It’s the elements filtered by biases and

paradigms, each as malleable as clay, 

to filter the water through these inherent 

yet learned lenses

what is the shape of the human soul

when detached from its host form?