Don’t turn your flame into fire.
Don’t turn the effervescence
of your unfathomable transformation
into God.
“Being” is just an opinion.
There are no abstractions,
nothing in general,
no time, and no eternity,
no black or white, and no
humanity, only your lips
pressed to my ear
in the perishing moment,
whispering the secret name
of love.
No heaven but these
miraculous worm-works
in the fallen apple
sizzling in the golden pool
of a dying star.
Why dwell in the penthouse
of your mind
when you could walk barefoot
on sparkling moss?
Your last breath
expired into this one,
but you did not cling or grieve.
The elixir of immortality
is to rest in the wonder
of not knowing.
~ Fred LaMotte
Kinnaird 