POEM: Spiritual Matter


Spiritual Matter


If Spirit is the immortal

part of ourselves,

the essence of our being,

Matter is Spirit.


Where else would our essence lie

but in our deepest parts?

Deeper than the cells of our skin

that flake off with touch and time,

becoming the dust breathed by the world.


Deeper than the muscles beneath

that shrink and grow with age and years,

the smooth use that pumps them large,

the slow stretches, the proteins

building the ability to push and pull

and leap and bound and even lie down

when life becomes too much.


Deeper than the cells making up

each separate part, each particle,

each electron, each quark

of up, down, strange, charm, bottom,

and top–their varied homogeneity

unites us with all. The dung beetle with

it’s beautiful shimmering body,

the dullest bird gracing the heavens,

the plastic bag floating discarded

in far-reaching oceans, each

unappreciated dandelion gracing

a freshly mown lawn with sunlight-

yellow petals, until it rides the wind

as cotton seedlings–visceral swan song

embodying the paradox

of uncreated creation.


We all come from each other.

Atoms are celestial: our

common building blocks

compose our infinite variety,

We are made of star stuff.


Materialism is Spiritual.


We share each other’s lives.

We breathe in each other’s essence.

There is nothing deeper

than realizing how our impermanence

permanently imprints us

on each other.




*image by keikannui via openclipart.org using Creative Commons licensing.


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