An amoeba's primal drive
is germinal life embraced,
no eyes, ears, nose or brain,
seeming unaware it's alive,
yet by touch and taste,
thoughtless pleasure and pain,
willing itself SURVIVE,
for geologic eons traced
to whatever may now remain
of natural family ties
in tons of human waste.

Earth as well
seeming senseless, unknowing,
a simple reaction to strive
when balanced extremes involve
tropic raining and icy snowing,
as alps and oceans fall and rise,
their seasonal rythms evolve
wind-blown seeds to blossom showing
such passion to grow and thrive,
even enemy opposites resolve
their destinies in time arrive
at Mankind's coming and going
where god-like sins dissolve
in volcanic soil that rains revive
to manifest again for growing
as higher minds again evolve
such powers to soar and dive
in mysteries beyond mere knowing,
since poor science could not solve
dark matter's invisable light alive
with beings on a further plain,
their insights of multi-dimension
spring astral flowers to new age bloom
as parallel halves of divided brain
join as one for creative tension,
free of modern medieval gloom,
to live each season's wax and wane,
guiding now in magick suspension,
equal friends and partners soon
sing songs of her rainbow reign.

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John Talbot Ross