Yin, the black… Yang, the white, in a dutiful dance,
Define all that is nature. In darkness must grow
Any seed that is planted. It reaches full light
In the process of growing. Its will to unite
With its other component is what people know,
But it’s deeper than that. It’s a rugged romance.
Ancient myths, rites of passage, and natural ways
Were designed to connect the body with the mind.
The latter can go off and do quite its own thing.
It wants things that the body prefers it not bring
To the table organic because it’s designed
To adhere to its nature throughout all its days.
Messages in the bottles from shores far away
Over eons eroding not, myths tell a tale
Of the human condition in ways subjective.
The collective unconscious teaches how to live
In accordance with nature and on a large scale.
Those who’ve mastered the passage have so much to say.
I must know that I’m mortal and all that it means
To move out of a sphere of achievement into
A relaxing refreshment enjoying it all.
I have given up big things to honor the small.
Rather than the lightbulb, I’m the light that shines through.
Consciousness is our essence – not fleshy machines.