Mushin Through Superposition (2015)

This was written as part of an ethnographic assignment in 2015. Left mostly unaltered except for a word choice I thought better of

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Up n’ent prospector indeed, for to woof your wing find your worth beyond roots

Here aes sídhe spin yarns and glamours shift sight just slightly askew

Misplaced bard, child of fae tales, spellbound and misspelled til outspokenly silent

Caught between Cúchulainn and Yeats

Late come Teufel Hunden, made wolf over years with like-minded pups of all walks

Etch in skin what time would weather to sand and memory make unto breath

Forged bonds through pressure and fire til edges blurred, then scattered

Each as a thought, in the end

Creature of the desert, where snow and brush turn to salt underfoot

Hunter, herder, between two families a pin head balance

Only child, brother of four, juggling the visions of Montague and Capulet

Rich soil needs no fertilizer, only tending. Calloused feet need no silk to line their souls

From the pit where earthen men reveal gold for kings, what's muck may glitter or not

Crests howl, apotheosis through Clarke and stellar visions

Troughs whisper, primal drums beat on iconoclastic rhythms

Zeno’s arrow makes Sisyphus smile, or hum.

Early adopter cyberpunk, belated archaic revivalist

Post human sympathizer, present human optimist

Raised equally as a thread in the lightning web and a child of Adam

Ideas form the new borders, aesthetics the new dens

Community, fluid and wide, more musical than instrumental

More crossroads than country, all twilights and juxtapositions

Within, Lao Tzu and Camus find common ground

A collection of carvings from countless passersby

A gathering of stories and myths, no member of the tribe

Wanderer with no country but a foot in many

Finding little to plant my flag in but much to set my sights on and if the path less traveled made all the difference

All flows

I am the Apophatic stream