Origins & Heresies: Poetry


The bird landed
on my windowsill
and gave a tiny coo
I bent my ear to listen
and heard the tale
of secrets woven in time

~

They say it is heresy
to dismiss the standard
lines given to us

Nay, we must agree
to these various stories
on the origins of mankind

And I spy arrogance in
some of this thinking
that we know All

There are mysteries
within and without,
beckoning us to follow

~

The bird upon my
windowsill kept
saying in sacred syllables:

"Existence is all
symbol and myth amid
origins and heresies
Scattered side by side like bones."

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