Sitting above the tree line
Astride the troposphere
Lungs empty, head clear
Axis of the peripheral horizon
Freed from all, disconnected
Sitting below ancient pines
Cocooned in death and life
Senses alert, aware of struggle
Frail mammal pondering
Biosphere tenant, connected
Sitting at my equilateral desk
Under perennial glowing tubes
Filtering emails, grooming sand
Steward of profitable nonsense
Here I am now, everywhere
-T. Weeks
(A response to “To the East and to the West”)
Life Immense 