The So-Called Material World

Life rises
Off of forms,
No room
Inside that dead
For the lightness
Of creation
Or the instant
Speed of thought.

Nothing valuable
Is ever visible,
As no truth
Is ever sane,
What we see
Is not what it
Appears to be;
On what it is
We never
Quite agree,
The movement
Always freezes,
The words are
Never proper
Elegies.

We all splash
In waters
That connect and
Split apart,
We all reach
But cannot shake
These other things
That are not shapes
We are attending
But the concords
Whistling through
That are the real
And living entity
We all agree on
Without seeing,
All see
Without knowing,
All know
Without holding
A thought inside
A thought.

There is no
Magic
In the sensing
Just a fear
That locks us out;
The laws we obey
We only heard of
Not discovered
If they worked.
We are not
The meat we
Eat but
Energy
That finds its end
Through currents,
In clearest skies.