I sit, sensitised

I stand, I walk up

the hill and my hand

tingles where the air kisses it

I am always seeking

      something but today

I wait for it to meet me -

  and it does not take long.

The lichen.

   Symbiotic poetic

   cross-collaboration cell

   integration performance

   a way

      for both of us

         to survive 

the body bursting

      from the dirt

      in slow power

      lifting rocks and forcing

      the compacted matter

      aside, away, to display 

the efforts of decay

   Continuum

being nourished by the dead

emerging in the autumn

performing the all-time (long-time)

heavyweight champion

the rush and swirl of

   the unhushed world,

      oceanic traffic distances

      being-becoming

      entangled in birdsong

      softly, gently,

      the aircraft rumble in cloudscape meeting rock and scrape crunch step by step and step 

here

  to stand, here

  to breathe

     the ridge and

the world

   has heard this

        story before

the world has heard this

      story before it is a 

   love story,

                remember?

it is desire

      the desire to exist 

             to feel

                    to be

in cross-collaboration

         in sympoetic elation

    symphonic dégustation

to taste the possible

                     combinations

pair me, love meet me

      here I am

            listening,

                my glands 

                     activating

   my spirit salivating 

I have room

       and room 

           and room

     for you -

this dirt become wood become lichen-carrier 

rock crumbled pigmenting sap infinite drip

star infinite map slipping 

between my organs listen the many-called organism glistens 

ready for the infinite potential of

             dreaming -

I am sensitised.

      slow, slow fast

the pace of

           the living.

I am buffeted, there are waves, there are ways to swim and float and thrash and drown and dive, I walk, I sit, I breathe, I dig, I sing it is all here I

   am

     here

each moment

    rustling gently

         against its companions

I    am          here

Thank you for

      being - becoming - rock -

      ground - root - leaf - 

      sun - fire     here

I     am        a

          lichen 

          fungus

          bird song

          engine

          companion

          collection

               here.

Waves,

   the flux of rush-relax patterning,

   an ebb-flow action and depth

I’ve not known til now.

  What are our realities made of?

microorganism interrelation symbiosis

   symbiogenesis integration

   consumption and procreation

we

  have always been

      lichens.

The birds take wing and

    sing in the golden light

long shadows, settling sun

   play

      and

   desire

         reaching towards the light -

oh, my love

      is all I need

Come close to me, my love

   I will show you how I feel

I am here

  a live

I feel fine

      and absurd

fear and love

    freedom is calling, dear ones, in all its forms.

  just a choice away

     to choose each day, each moment

        to listen

        to return

again, here

            alive

    love

Patient Soil

Beneath

there are tender tendrils creeping

and tiny life forms

masticating

digesting

excreting out the dead

we feed each other

we eat each other

we scatter and lay

and dampen and decay

and the tiny veins

take us over

take us down

slowly slowly

we cross the ground

until we are broken

and fall

slowly

slowly

we hasten towards death

transform our withering

we eat each other

we are fed

drift down through

the layers and be consumed

mycelial skin

coating

devouring

slowly slowly

the soil is patient

we are patient soil

we carry and are carried

across and down

we filter 

it all

through us

and we are dispersed 

in the quiet dark

of the earth

the mosses and lichens and liverworts

the microbes and tiny bugs

ants and shadows

break down

the

broken

and dead

we are steadily transformed 

we are not waiting

we tend to this every moment

(solve et coagula)

the soil

feeds us

and we

feed it

it is patiently waiting

feeling our weight

as we move

across

and down

into the tender tendrils

the arms

and mouths 

of the earth