The Trickle

I asked my youngest grandson his favorite subject in school. His answer? Learning. Thus, this poem started percolating.

The Trickle
       by Odin Roark

But from a trickle
Streams of consciousness coalesce
Cascades enjoin seasoned rapids
Buffered by endless boundaries
Urged forward by more surging tributaries

Such adventurous energy
Wants only the oneness of here and now
The sustained awareness that perpetual peace is flux
A truth preparing for the next change

How lonely such a journey
The cumulative drip of awareness
This ethereal urgency at times made to pause
Knowing so few wish to aspire beyond
The “winning” limitation

Such is transcendence

Where gathering to its singularity
Accepts not of separation
Of predator and prey
Only the pinpoint known as nothingness
And everything

Perhaps…

For every frozen hesitancy
There waits a child
A newborn
A biological energy in process
Anxious to understand how simple yet complex
This existence labeled life truly is
Trickle by trickle