The gods go living in our DNA.
Those primal waves of consciousness
from numberless millennia
are churning in its chemistry.
Walking through this Mount Olympus,
I am every vital one of them.
I worship each on landscaped altars
with grateful garlands of
wildflowers—
for in truth I'm not a single one
of them.
In essence, even Mars is not a
planetary
warrior but the pull of earliest
division.
Seeing it as such is seeing through
it.
Holding all these gods within my
space,
I honor them but never occupy
their territory. All but Venus.
Love! The sea is parting.
Love! All space is disappearing.
Love! I'm washing up upon this
desert
shoreline, disembodied, universal,
bursting with original intent.
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