The round ball with life scattered about it.
We call it earth, mom.
I am here a speck, some part of the whole.
There is equality in thinking that I am part of this world, whether I am alive or dead on this sphere.
Should I bow before the spiritual leaders of this planet or should they bow to me.
Should we bow in unison respecting our existence or should we just say that we are all equal and let it be.
Where do the mowed lawns and the gold sand fit into this equality?
The hot temperatures and flames of the fires, the two-inch rains that fall locally, the tropical lushness of some secluded island, the deep blue ocean where the giant whales dive and breach. It all seems to fit together.
There are some things that I would want to change and you probably know what you want.
I do not see the round sphere but people say it is so.
So where does the man that works in the garden for eight hours fit in?
You know the man that pushes aside the chemicals and keeps his tools simple, fit in?
Where does that old truck or that new plane fit in?
Am I supposed to separate the spectrum of light or should I try to see it as a whole, equal.
I do make a choice. Equality is the choice I make.
Being, being part of this space that moves in circles.
It is sad that other parts of this planet do not see the equality.
They like to form the triangle with layers of humanity beneath their minds.
Gollum is learning the meaning of ....
June 06, 2002
June 08, 2002bongaJune 09, 2002
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.Words & Graphics by Tomas