Thrum Pulse Root

(for Karen, Denise, Carrie, Nicole, Gaia)

a low thrumming deeper than cello
humming of xylem, phloem
(circulatory, digestive: rivers within bodies

the flow descends

i.
prajna paramita, the ground of being she
describes as she finds the points in my trunk plunging to root
the axis of wonder, of pain, these tender, particular ravines
of knowing that have memories leaning towards fire

in the midst of this timeless presence, 
the ground of being

as the acupuncture opens the flows, i wonder

where do the dead go, beyond the touchoffingers
descending down to the always-presence

our local planetary presence is the repository of all knowing
our planetary presence is the local repository of all knowing


inbetween:
what if instead of starkly instantiated calcifications,
(confused culture, worshipping things)
what if the flow is the most important?
xylem, phloem: sapflow, thrumpulse of treedeeps
what if the innerflow is our tribute/contribution/ever-swansong to (of) earth

ii.
i miss touchoffingers with the beloved
who has passed into the groundofallbeing perennial dimension of presence
my friend, newly grieved, resonant echo with missing

{I endeavor never to miss, so nonpresent, like
linger, hanker, desire
or if feeling it, savoring the feeling of it
not staying in the feedback looping moremaking of it:

sink me into THIS dirt, right here, let my breath be nurture
root trunk and leaf, let my breath be nurture


grammatical note: the opened and unended parentheticals
an attempt to trace the startstopweaveflow of consciousness
the flow that builds and almost never touches the 
same water twice
in the deep in the deeps in the very sultry velvet nuzzle guzzle
micorhizzal deeps


3. my life so relishing
i help my friend with her book in which she weaves-constructs
new rhythmmarking dimensions across the arc of human history/herstory
before incisions on bones before ochre on cave walls before words written or spoken
imagining back before we were we
and since

i stay with the time, opened up
i stay with the time in which we were numenous with
regeneration how the roots roll up
how the earthpulse of all things spinning
flows in deep regular rhythm up/down (directionless/all-directions)
emanating from every point, the vitality-aliveness-spark-of-big-

yes that's it, the big orgasm rather than the big bang

spark-of-big-originary-orgasm
(the ecosexuals will love that)
thrumming in us still, she-we birthing life
she-we birthing life
of course we mark this pulse-of-life on our pots
and sacred weaves, woven in, deeply, even the movements of our hands
arises from the pulseofourroots in the originaryblessing-life-orgasm


even one shard of one pot from these longago kindred
seeing it, sketched and then the hands of the people who
dug up the ink scratching printing heads, those who discovered
the alchemy of ink, algae from a thrillion years before,
all the rootnutrients suck sipped from treekin
who gifted their life (or were taken) for this paper
this knowing, this echo of oldways, like xylem and phloem
of knowing and memory
across the portalways of time, within the ground of all being

our local planetary presence is the repository of all knowing
our planetary presence is the local repository of all knowing

generously, embedded within the tree of life, my awareness a chloroplast
in the great thrumofbeing, the unfurling lifeofearth, galacticbirth
so thrumthrillpresencing

may this joy arc back across dimensions and touch the handless skinless
knowing of shewhopassed and yes it already has and helped fuse her
molecules and birth her this joy is our immediary comediary commotion
effervescent sparktick of life this nowjoy helped birth her and animate her
brilliant days and now keeps gifting sheweus sheweus sheweusmenowbreath
sheweusmenowbreathslowslowdeep slowslowdeep thrumpulse root
slowslowdeep slowslowdeep thrumpulserootslowslowdeep thrumpulserootslowslowdeep