Myth, Our Divine Absurd

 To live in a myth, literally, does not happen. 

That is, not from a concrete, grounded, egoist perspective.

To experience being a tree, literally, I do believe to be possible. 

From the external, one may see another as sitting in meditation, not moving, 

not being anything other than a very normal human.

Then why is that very human in lotus position seeing only roots

extending out from their trunk body, seemingly out of control,

in service only to the wind and whisper of God,

moving leaf laced limbs into sway, a dance, as a mother willow

communicating with electric, emerging fungi, 

which once noticed, 

pull this tree human into a spiral of near death decay, 

emitting from soul self more emotion than ever known possible, 

enough to drown out the mushrooms and become more than one tree, 

a regal river too, nourishing an entire forest of trees.

Somehow, all of this occurring in one second of breath

that then pulls the very human down, down, down,

not into the rabbit hole but into our own mystery,

our autonomous unconscious and neurotic God,

where human is no more a tree, but Persephone, Queen of the Underworld.

What the external world does not see is the ego melting into shadow's royalty, 

a maven of mushroom's melody, feeling fully the innermost stirring 

to indeed live as myth, a myth never read nor told before.

The spirit simply knows, as God speaks directly to the human's meditative mind,

"I am here, always here, in your highest highs and lowest lows.

In your tree roots and soil, in your veins and breasts,

in every freckle and heart-felt toil, I am here.

My love, my love, you are as I am, so stubbornly you, 

for any other way will not do. 

Just be, be here, in the warmth of my arms,

such blanket of stars to remind us of our light, for you are me,

not in ego, not in mind, 

but in deepest, darkest, light-breathed soul, 

we are one.

All that is needed, hoped for, wished to begin, is done, 

Forevermore. 

So just be with me now. Here now, in this. 

No seeking your oblivion bliss. For what you do not seek, will find you still.

What you do not know has already been written for you

to experience in truth.

Such are the water's of Sophia, your soul upon her sill.

Wisdom is in presence, listening to what I've placed in your heart, 

with deliberate, divine devotion.

Find stillness and hear my myth: for you I have sacrificed

with all of my heart, to accomplish eternal forgiveness and peace,

to always live as you, wholly you.

Never shall we part, in no corner or crack shall you hide.

By your side is always fear, as to remind you that such a feeling is simply a mirror

to what you yourself cannot cast out. 

Keep faith in me, to search and seek for you.

Don't be distracted by external blindness and abandon.

With me, with me, in stillness as this willow tree,

expel this fear to be, always in breath, here with me."

No true, God-willed feeling could ever be put into words

and that is why we rely on myth and story, in light of such mystical absurd.