A white wolf walks the ridge atop mountains of division

down either side are  gaggles of googled images

terabytes of treasured triptych-like tales and

docs from data driven delving deep as any white rabbit den–

and each side can fling their trove logically and calculatedly while sure it will enter your mind,

they’re sure their meme can infect better, last longer, and come out atop the ridge…

A white headed eagle flies around the range of all

below is a cohesive whole enmeshed in delusion

forgetting few have fallen from the top and

saw the spaces of solitude where the ridges end, but

each side only catches feathers…and still attempts to fly to the top before they can even climb,

and they’re sure their understanding trumps all, because they’ve received the sign…

A golden salamander pokes its head up from the muck of chaos-

above, all the parts are learning what they are,

nearly ready, coalescing into the absolute

of never ending paradox:

both and neither, everything and nothing, ridge and circle.

and the tears fed the roots of the plants that shot up to reach the light while stretching down

to touch the depths that knew no sound, neither laughter nor cries…that knew only silence.


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