In the seamless life,
Loving and everything else
are indissolubly joined.
We are not splintered,
or
fragmented-
not from our selves,
not from one another,
not from what is.

We do not endure stretches
of mundane, obligatory experiences
in order to earn the right to
partake of transitory, joyous interludes.

There are no gaps between the dreams we share
and the world we inhabit.

No sacrifices are asked of us.
No compromises demanded.
We are beauty and wholeness, arising.

From our conceptual bunkers,
we glimpse the seamless life
through gaps in our fences,
in between strategy sessions,
during one of the well deserved breaks we give ourselves
from trying to make things right.

It looks to be a festival- that seamless life.

We see one person stooped in the mud,
in awe of those black oily bugs
that scamper across the water.  He has
a collection of them in a rose colored porcelain dish,
and the start of a second in his upturned top hat-
which is filled to the brim with river water.
He shows no sign of diminishing appreciation.
Another, dressed in pantaloons, an embroidered scarlet frock,
and a headdress made from elk leather
and peacock feathers, is preparing biscuits.
Yet another is assembling a mechanical apparatus,
nine men high, propelled by pressurized steam
and a train of broad-backed oxen,
useful in the counting of numbers.

We edge closer and peer through the knothole
in our fence, and discover a young woman
offering a lecture on Intangibility,
in sign language, to a rapt cabal of financiers.

When we see such Abundance, we cannot
help but be reminded that we are
of that same, Unprecedented Nature.
We cannot help but be roused
into a state of wanton Becoming.

We stalk in circles, inside the fence,
mustering our best arguments against littleness.
Seamlessness becomes the taste for which we languish.
We offer cries of disdain and rattle our sabers.

The posturing, of course, is pointless, and
anyway, I have been told not to worry
or become flustered:
even the birds have figured this out-
this acceptance of Inevitability.

I have been told there is nothing wrong
with taking a peek once in a while
at who we really are…