Tending the mesh, towards tomorrow’s flesh.

Compost beings, fed up by immortalities
aspiring for circularities,
aiming to die to transform to rise again 
— this time without ego. Lego pieces
from an ecosystem
we are all cobuilding together
harden up leather,
cracking from the passage of time
and proud of its wrinkles.
Showcasing what it means to be perishable
rotting within, without shame
always with aim
for the new, the raw, the unprocessed.
Fellow beings and becomings,
fertilize yourself!
Unite in the ever flowing cocooning 
of trying to birth something different 
something fresh.
Tending the mesh, towards tomorrow’s flesh.

There’s no lotus without mud, flood
your senses with the all encompassing acknowledgement of us,
in sympoiesis, 
intercoursing each other on the molecular level
on the macro level, on the sacro level.
There’s nothing more sacred than
the rhizomatic nature of the whole.
Who needs soul
when we co-own soil?
Compost beings and becomings
unite,
fight,
light,
with all your might
towards a better sight.
The world is ours to shape,
we just need better
fertilizing.