Lesleigh reminds me that Bucky Fuller said, “I live on Earth at present, and I don’t know what I am. I know that I am not a category. I am not a thing — a noun.
I seem to be a verb, an evolutionary process — an integral function of the universe.”
— R. Buckminster Fuller (1970)
You open your vision out beyond the letters
on a motel sign or license plate.
Full circle vision, soft vision,
the eyes of a doe looking at her fawns
and the stream they sip,
the maples and sumac,
all in one view.
You sit back as your lover drives along the crowded Interstate,
you looking at the road and bridges,
the waving American flags,
the multi-layered clouds,
the flapping tarp on a truck —
all flowing though the moving circle
of your life in these few moments.
Then your mind begins to trace the timeline
of each not-a-thing you’re witnessing.
The water of the gray-glowing clouds
rising from the sea . . .
crossing mountains, deserts and plains . . .
rushing in layers over you . . .
falling to Earth as rain up North.
The body of the red SUV passing by
formed from fracked gas blended in refineries
pressed into shape by machines made clever by engineers
and after a few seconds of Earth time, ripped apart.
Each No-Thing in your circle of vision
is the same flow of matter,
this same wave of energy,
flashing thru creation-duration-dissolution
and into the Vastness.
Coming home the clouds and sun
tell the story across the sky.
Dark clouds to the South,
columns of rain falling in one place . . .
Cloud castles to the West,
shafts of light coming down from a hidden Sun
Clear blue sky and sparkling valleys to the North.
You open your mind wide
. . . Full-circle of time
. . .. . . The eyes of a doe