Fractal Information

a hunger


for specific points a reflection of dots on a grid

a perspective of binocular

consciousness


from a distant scope

in sight a broad mosaic

of a billion brightly colored

points on a grid

forming mist and symbol


to a cellular scenario

where matter breaks down

into energy to be transferred

among points on a grid

along lines of communication

electron transference


to the meaning of my meeting

you and points on a grid

to the planets shrugging

shoulders shifting polar

density


to the maps of our beings

plotted like a million points

on the the grid of time

where we find each other

waiting


to the solar system

spiral towards the center

of the golden ratio

law of octaves; 64 fold

tantric cards of possibilities

and the 12 hands rotating

around the 13th body


to the capsule of words 

we buried in time planting

seeds of meaning behind

every threaded tapestry of

(being) manifested moment

dreams have lead us here

before; Do we have the courage

to take down the door

off its hinges?


to the silent storm of space

traveling entangled atomic

asteroid beaming bracelets

of Olympian headed god court

Dragon tail chasing rabbit worm

wandering the bobby-pin

bouey bounce signing

wave on the dotted line

points on a grid


to the memories yet to be made

yet we have already remembered

following lines of thought

trajectory laid out like

points on a grid and here

we're traveling time

conscious beings

-what is mapped, not

the map - we are (being) in

Love with the ever unfolding

detailed complexion

of infinity crossing your

sky as shooting star

dust sustains suspension

in the air photograph

like points on a grid


to the metered pulse of holy

flaring furnaces of fusion

machines sun centered hub

of heat/light transference

exhaust perma-culture

of heavenly scripted bodies

all vying for the golden apple

laying virtues out

a map of their being

points on a grid

the cadence of their dance

unique and timely radiant

before death the Adviser

become of Observer

then Succor

breaking the bodies

down in fiery belly

bottom blues feeder


wash away the rain

draw down the one

from two perspectives

a union of chariots

made with wooden blessing

from the living tree Goddess

willing

       we'll cross what is mapped

not the map - pass through

the threaded gate of honecomb

mystery keepers to seat

     amid the circle of light

we are blinking candles

closed eye tight lid

     magick

     like points on a grid