THE BLOOM

by  shaun lawton 

There's a sinuous interlacing of various subterranean elements working together to support us. When they break through to the light of day they may provide enough shade to sit beneath and wonder.

Some long afternoon in the distant future someone decides once again they have always been the center of the universe. The center of this cosmic phenomenon which existence appears to be. At the time.  Reflected through them. And into the distant future.

The way in which these matters become important to us depends entirely on our own part in the unfolding manifestation. What they call around here the Bloom.

The interchanging roles of roots to branches and earth to sky remains as open a puzzle as it ever was.

The trouble with secrets out in the broad light of day seems to be that invariably they'll be mistaken for trinkets by many.

Curiosities to be taken only to adorn their display cases. That is alright, for there remains enough of it out there to go around. 

No one who escapes with a morsel of truth may be called a thief. For the Blooming continues. This remains the sole ever relied upon rule.

Its permutational shapes always appear in unexpected ways.

Sometimes expressed between sunrises and sunsets.

Often from within the depths of dreaming.

In  other places sprouting as new 

and sudden branches.

Limbs of the tree

 of life.