To sit and stare in a murky woods,
The light like vapor.
I\'m nestled in roots, there is wetness and a cradle filled with slimy and gritty things.
This old towering figure offers me slumber, and a little furry tub that I thought would swindle.
No harm, with one look I twist my bones like the roots and accommodate her.
A great eruption of thought drove me here,
I see the error in naming it, eruption.
I shall name it corruption!
Perceive and accommodate wild ideas,
Act and give alms to madness.
I choose to not own perception,
I know not what owns perception.
I suppose the space that births the murky woods and the light appearing as vapor,
And the space erupting with corrupting,
That births a pure life, the furry tub.
How can I be other than this?
With awareness being transparent I am all of this.
On the sidelines of thought I find this beauty