Spore the World

Don’t bet the farm

on lines, planes, spheres or cubes.

Forget smoothness, order

and an everything-in-its-place life.

Nature spins rough shapes in great detail,

and we’re the better for it.

Rather dig your nose in a forest floor,

pulling loam deep in your lungs

so ferns and fungi grow there at will,

swaying to your breath.

The spores you exhale

will travel the wind…

bits of yourself seeding the world.

Someday,

up a blind canyon,

clinging to a cliff,

you may meet yourself anew

and wonder

how the hell you got there.