Does Your Religion Have Vivid Patterns..?      (SEMI-FILLER/LONG)

Porcupine: Does your religion have vivid patterns,
Symbols found in rock, wood and glass?

Old songs and sounds, melodies of the gods?
Meanings in the stars?

Odd smokey aromas from the bowels of earth?
Formulas, potions and exotic salves?

Dances, ceremonies, and leaders
Under sacred, ornamental rooves?
Clothes of levity?


Jim: No.


Porcupine: Then what does your religion have?


Jim: Me..?


(his head swayed as he stumbled closely
a wind grew out of nothing
stars twirled through his long curly hair
half his face wasn’t there, melted
a thwarted glass reflection
eyes were dark wells into nowhere
an echo of a falcon softly shushed the land
an ancient spirit was around)


My religion has the Future...
I see the Future...


Porcupine: How do you see the future?


Jim: When you forget your tv, sports and talking...
You have no choice after that...


Porcupine: What do you see, when you see the future?


Jim: All things as they really are...


Porcupine: But you are goofy and listen to loud music,
You still do drugs and drive your car fast.
Should you not be serious by now?


Jim: If you saw what was ahead,
You’d be pretty goofy too...


You’d never raise your voice at anyone again...


It’s just to calm my stomach when I’m bored...
That’s all it does...

I doubt I even have one anymore...


Porcupine: Have what? A stomach?


Jim: A mind like yours...
I transcended somewhere...


Porcupine: Then why are you still here?
Why are you still talking to me?


Jim: I had to come back... and tell everyone...


Porcupine: You should write a book.


Jim: There is a Book...
But the adults misread It...

I’m here to tell them to read It again...


Porcupine: And what is this book about?


Jim: The Future...
It’s about seeing more of what is here...


Porcupine: But this world is an illusion.
Should we not be seeing less and less of it?


Jim: When you see... more... of the same things,
Then you see less of it, by yourself...

When the senses become a fabric, an air,
A space of the world shared among all things,
Then... the Door is opened.

The illusion... is just the time
When we perceived the same things
Separately...