By Will Tuttle
Sandwiched between vast sky of seamless blueness
And the lapping ribbed blue of this mountain lake,
The rugged ridge stands, greened by woven stands of pine and fir,
Pressed between infinite space and eternal flow.
Green between blues, and
Life between deaths,
I move like a filling,
Between being and becoming, and dance in and into them,
And yet am consumed by them;
Dissolved and eaten by the surrounding blueness,
They devour me to merge again:
Time into space into quiescence.
For a while I scream and dance more wildly,
Anything to fill this green filling between blues;
For a while I struggle to create a trinity. . .
For a while.
Blue beneath, blue above,
This universe the filling, surrendered, and eaten.
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