I Will to Oneness Ascend.

I find myself having more visceral experiences in the presence of beauty. The revelation for me has been that the experience of beauty cannot be passive; now when I come across a flawless flower, I walk up to it, touch it, smell it, contemplate it; I consider the harmonious symmetry of it’s seed carrying ovaries; I focus on the contrast of its color with the dark dirt it blossomed from, I consider the ephemeral nature of it’s against-all-odds existence and in doing so, consider mine;
I wonder if the honey-stuffed bumble bee that prances up and down it’s prickly pedals made a consciences choice to climb this particular flower, and I wonder if it was a similar bee that carried this plant’s pollen here, from some other place. What will it feel like I wonder, if I am stung...if only I am stung.

So now, if by happenstance I find myself under a white flowering dogwood tree
and drips of spring mist
drop on my tilted-back forehead...I will feel the urge to
drop to my knees, spread open my chest, and let some tears of joy
drop onto the leaves of grass below.
I will to oneness ascend.