A poem that is not a poem, but my ultimate and continual wish.
I will not rest until every single organism is established in their own version of abundant, beautiful expression. And then I still will not rest because that is when the true adventure begins. Then I hope we fight. Then creation, and even war, will be done in love. All things will be in love and will only contribute to the further intensification, the further revelry, the further celebration of what we are, in awe and mystery, together. This is not only possible, it’s where we’re going. I don’t have no doubt, but I think it is very, very likely.
Build all the things.