C.R.F.W. - Midwife

Expansion of awareness

Or Gaia’s breast

Or possibilities with love and technology

Grandmother spider we could pick up

Weaving the divine web

Fools think that grandma spider is trying to eat them

But they struggle from fear

Consider how dark it gets before dawn

Weaves all day, left us alone during the night

She’s about to wake up again

We are awake, drinking crisp dew for breakfast

And ready to weave the web denser

This web has no circumference

It’s stardust, trees, cushions, and computers

I am no me, but the source living itself out through me

My identity, whirlwind, ideas confused and never solid

Spinning, slow motion, is completely dissolved

I am a vessel

I have been an infinite number of people

The areas I dream of are fountains, floating screens, busted metals, flowers,

little floating pixie pods, like fireflies in the tree branches

Aiding photosynthesis

Or having consciousness like birds to sing to one another

Nature’s new masterpiece

A constant animatronic orchestra

New robot creatures and anything in our imagination getting fused and folded

inside out

Is my imagination mine?

Would I like it to be private?

If my imagination was a private matter, aside from Mother Nature,

how could she and I ever collaborate on actualizing our dreams?

Fur, mana, fruits, touch, floating, ants, blood, body art, walker, fish, salts,

smoke, telepathy, funky maypole parties, wine, sex

Freedom to play with an always wet ocean of lust for experimentation with sound

or object

Bringing up kids as supernatural man-apes

Pure and free from culture and history

Intelligent apes form, this time around, their music, dance, science,

and spirit, will take them into space

History is dead

In my me, I have we

I am the present moment

The thousands of years in my blood

Sage, traveler, mage, performer, stamina up, gypsy frog spirit guide,

gliding along cars and hovering around streetlights

Party like a freaky thing and get bored by the hermit in me who’d rest with a

goose down pillow rather than tear it up just for a feather rain

Jello-lone melancholy and drunk on dreams, kissing, the perfect music,

and spiff up the party

Live out the whole color spectrum

The cosmic mood ring

Who is the least bit open to mystery

Nature will give you clues if you are brave

We have seen the birth of the god and everyone

Out of pure self love, no vanity

Computers and transports

Love is a silky and breezy thread

Love is a silky and breezy thread

And is not human centered

Love is the center

Communications, growth, and love are the fuel for the web to get more complex

every time the moment goes by

If you watch, it is always different

Death is no violent

If you ask the leaf on a tree in autumn if it is scared to fall off the branch

It will say, «I have given all I am to this tree

And I am tired, and I’ll float on down now»

Imagine the way breeze feels against your leaf body

While you finally don’t have to hold on anymore