To relax I sit on the dry turf
sink into hillside's fair chalky meadow
dry summer day clouds mixed crimson magenta
an ash tinted sunset for months the world over.
My minds eye sees beetles burrowing in the dung of my dreams
and their mandibles even rock grinds to dust
their palpi feel for food and digest
stone-dust their waste back-filling tunnels
like analid these athropods mix like no sex does.
I now know like no sense can tell:
and as the sun enriches my skin with vitamin D
my eyeballs turn back toward my brain
eyelids flutter as the butterfly
and like Chuang-Tzu before me
beauty amazes confounds confuses amuses,
but leaves ever after an awe of the unknown.