by Gwagwagwe
Self-replicating as each species reproduces, changing within each level upon variation, each level connected through depth of perception out of chaos comes order through connection, indescribable in its entirety since quality is beyond our ability to see beyond the dichotomy.
Is irony the opposite of synchronicity? Then is humor the language of the gods? Now there’s some questions! Here’s an answer, of course not to those ball-breakers. If the bison don’t live on taker time (no clocks), and the bison don’t live on Mayan time (no star charts), and don’t’ live on lunar time (not yet), then what the hell kind of time do they live in. Well armadillo time, of course. Stay in the shelter until late morning and all day if it’s cold AND wet. Go to bed well after dark, after fucking around in the dirt all damn day. Those armadillo people sure got it worked out. We’ve had time to talk with them over the last moon, and boy do they have some funny stories.
THIS PLACE, where the land is half an arm deep before you hit water. The cypress build structures and networks of “knees” and roots that are fill in with debris, and WALLA land. On the higher spots deciduous live oaks tower over and shade the mighty ash and elderberry below. The poison ivy, iron, and muskadine vines reach their cylindrical bodies high into the trees where air plants ands resurrection fern make their home. Each day, as our armadillo friends bury their heads in the leaves (the ostrich got a bad rap), we bison sing the songs of our neighbors. We watch RAH and LUNA sink into the bayou as they chase each other around like children. We canoe over these powerful waters, knowing the tides that flow in and out of this watery landscape. The thoughts that flow through our heads are not our own, they have never been. They are the voices of the community of life around you; you just have to listen. We are a part of this community and it will live in our minds until we return to watch the lotus rise from the deep. The fish crow tells us that spring comes early in the south, and the winds confirm. We see our fair maiden on the horizon and in the future (the same thing).
P.S. As the bison leave THIS PLACE, the strangest sight. Yes, fish, by the hundreds, lying on the freeway. Hum.. Strange, but extremely ironic.
Those with weak moral fiber can visit the Delphi site to read some of GWAGWAGWE’s recent work dedicated to one of the bison’s favorite author. Tom Robbins.