What holds us in place?
Is it the cycle of seasons?
The promise of morning coffee,
the tummy rumble at dinner time?
How is it that we know when to stay and when to go?
When to trust and when to doubt?
When to step forward and when to retreat?
With all the talk of artificial intelligence, I have to wonder.
What intelligence makes me artificial?
What innate wisdom have I barricaded with my addictions,
willful consumption of what’s MINE, all MINE!
The shutter is widening.
The ground is shifting.
The weather is changing.
The heart is asking.
What holds me in place?
What keeps me planted?
What fertilizes my bloom?
Surely I know what the turtle knows —
from whence came the world.