Further Always

)i’ve a notion tonight that there’s a further way to live than i
do, and that it is far from impossible to live.

i’ve always believed so, but this feeling tonight is like rubber on the road, like violets peeking out of soil, like music from strings of gut — organic and all contact — this can be, is, if i would only let it.

i’ve found something, the idea of fire is no longer abstract, but living flame that moves and breathes and grows — no mere idle dreaming of what ought to be but is not– it is, i am, we can be, so, easily, so. fragile, with a touch(!) pushed over the edge into all feeling knowing touching thinking connectivity and life, neurons like combustion engines beginning things with powerful push to go forth and create, to go forth and multiply out of one’s very self [with what material is to be found nearby] to replicate, ennumerate, and grow, (learnbeauty)evolve [with the tools at hand, with] the sharing of heart and mind and soul that is to be found in this great host of communal life — withallwhyistheresomuch death?

i, however, i. i am committed to further in and further up, to a further way to live, to flowers and fast-fury-movement and flame and oxygen and song and notions and soil and smells and rain -hope in its bows- and vitasunshine running through the veins of the earth where its light does not apparently reach i am committed, latched in, rooted like a great tree, in all i know of life and love and joy

and death has been is always forever defeated.

this i know, further than i did before, always further, always further towards finality that never ends(

c. Kate Gough

.-.-.-.

Today is Muse New Born,
and I will live further
again.