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Oxalis
28:33
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we exist as one
within the circle
as we trace her cycle
below these branches
my hand is yours
and yours is mine
In movement as one
like serpent and sun
through each breath
our path is trodden by markings of man
raptured from the arms
of a greater nature
heathen angels guide
these hopes into heaven
trailing epochs marked in roots
abrasions so abnormal
life will breath again
above this altar of strife
this animal longing of soaring into stars
and tracing the holy from signs undefined
paved into the bones of stones and roots
the feet of men will vanish at my threshold
you can try to stop the winds
and the relentless current
beneath an Elysian tide
yet all in vain
for no pair of quivering hands
were ever callous enough
to shape dust back to stone
or form the tree back into the seed
that by chance fell upon this sacred soil
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Orb Weaver Collective Olympia, Washington
Art against civilization.
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