We have entered Decemeber and the season of giving. Tomorrow where I am is the annual event we call Giving Tuesday. A day set aside to encourage charitable donations. If you are able, please consider making a donation to your favorite charity or non-profit. One of my favorites is Esther's Echo, a non-profit run by a dear friend of mine; and so I know, every dollar that is raised makes it to the schools in Sierra Leone. Even small donations can go a long way. Please visit their Go Fund Me page and see if they are the right giving opportunity for you.

(Images from Esther's Echo)

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21

The material world
Is the mirror to the Tao

All reflections are shallow
Lacking in substance
In comparison to what casts it
Yet the reflection does not know this
It behaves as though it is the source
Unaware and unknowingly

There is no reflection
Without the source
There is no mirror
Without the builder

The Tao is both builder and source

To the mirror …
Immeasurable
Ungraspable
Timeless
Radiant

Do not measure
Do not grasp
Understand eternity

Shed the mask of the internal foe
Reflect radiance

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From X ...

21 is published in 81. Poems from the Tao, my Tao-inspired philosophical collection of poetry. Link below. It is posted here today in response to the prompt #measure. The #Aiart video was inspired by the poem with the prompts of surreal, cosmic, and butterflies.

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Icarus Enlightenment

critical thinking
has been grounded
put a pin in nuance
your problem solving
is bad air-control
those who inhabit the heights
upon their ancient bone mounts
label it hot air
they don't want you buzzing about
maintaining catacombs
among the stratocumulus
is shaky businesses
truth is only whispered
or the castles come down

look now
you've disturbed
the buttressing masses

"Aye ... I didn't hear you
what did you say.”

Hold still ... little Atlas's
keep on guard, a firm grip
or along will come Sisyphus
to Sabine your dusty gems
steal your girl
romance and take her on
an Tibetan mountain trip

pre-approved questions
may be given air
but it's a no fly zone for posits
that have not been tested
scripted and rehearsed

Nostradamus has augured
puppet princes, feudal emperor's
ambitious lieutenants
will transform into the butt of folly
in a genuine joust of wit and words
They get buried in muck from slippage
and gaffe
faux-angels get strings
petty entanglements
inhabit wired elevations
and wooden grins

a transcendence
of tricksters
an Icarus enlightenment
stolen honeyed-feathers
sharp deadened plumes
a tintype and face-tune'd
abbreviated spectrum
an opiated, pot of pyrite
piles of filthy lucre
to dry wind burn tears

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This piece of poetry is titled Icarus Enlightenment and is in response to the prompt #business. There is an earlier version of the poem kicking around somewhere. The visual is a result of surreal collaboration with grok.