Negentropy
The striving of life
On my left there are people telling me what to do. On my right there are people telling me what not to do.
On my left there is putrefaction and the flesh hardens. On my right there is cancer as growth goes out of control.
On my left there is direction without energy. On my right there is energy without direction.
On my left there is moralism and on my right there is raving around.
These people are all unbalanced, mentally and emotionally.
They balance each other as their claws tear into their spines.
Do you think I would want to be one of them? The stairway to Heaven is made of the bodies of Hell.
They bend over each other like a bridge and they harden. I am repulsed by looking at them but the light makes up for it.
Rise, rise, life, by your striving.
The blue flower turns toward the light, and the mushroom springs from the soil which has been cleansed with peroxide from rain, electrolyzed sky.
Spring rains have burnt all the rot away and the roots pry into Hell as the branches reach out toward Heaven. Hell screams as the roots pry into it, and then it is burnt out and silent. The birds of paradise did not stop their singing.
Rise, rise, life, by your striving.
Do you know where we are going?
Rise, rise, life, by your striving.
All the dead things have made the ground beneath us. All the hardened things became the rocks of sandy soil and all the rotted things fertilized it. But you don’t want to go there.
Rise, rise, life, by your striving.
My enemy’s enemy is my enemy. They claw each other’s eyes out. My enemies destroy themselves.
Rise, rise, life, by your striving.
When I came here this grass was brown. When I came here these trees were bare. When I came here mold lined the path. When I came here the sky was dull. When I came here the air was cold even in the summertime. When I came here the Sun was dim. When I came here dust blew into our eyes. And now all the dust-creatures can do is moan and croak. The dust-creatures have no place here anymore. The dust-creatures throw dust at us as we climb the hills. The dust brushes up on a cloud and the cloud lets loose. The water pushes the dust into the ground. There has been enough dust.
Rise, rise, life, by your striving.
Such a beautiful passionate piece. Traveling deep and soaring high. Completely engaged. Presence!