Kept away from our perfection
by the shell that maintains our selves.
Why break up what is whole,
mutilate what is shining?
Why on earth would you take down the sun
and slice it into shards,
send them out to roam and find themselves,
remember the wholeness that once was?
And by so doing leave the whole world
in darkness, disarray.
Why fool them into believing they are many
when they have always been one?
Why present the enlightened
with a false idol?
But is the sun one as it appears,
or scores of twisting flames –
and either way does it not
give out light that stretches over infinity
and heat that lets emerald-green life bud
endless stretches of nothing away?
Might the sun be really
a mosaic of sparks,
side by side,
believing themselves alone?
Would they recognize what we see,
that blinding ball we’re birthed through?
Or would they see only a face in a crowd,
begging for company