Poetry

The one crawled out of ice... The two from thickest mud... The many from the carcasses of slain animals, sacrificed... or murdered. We have become like our gods. Who have we become? ...the images of those we killed... The one, a goat. The twain, some frogs or eyes of Newt.

The poem that named this site, originally written late 2021. Feet hold To this place in/and time Echos of matter call Forming all  Showing all Being all In one cosmic instant  It all comes clear We jump portal to portal  Feeling all, and fractal. Bounce back, convey message… Mind

I wrote this poem over a year ago, maybe even two. It came at a particularly painful moment in my journey and has provided strength ever since. I hope it will help you too. It sinks in like slooow water the aches and pains of a life lived mostly alone