Fallen from Grace


A man from whence I came,

Chosen light,

Acutely aware of the billions of years contained with in me,

Every atom,

Proton and neutron,

I am the Higgs Boson,

The God Particle,

In me the universe is conceived, born and without me will persist,

A majestic miracle of marvelous manifestations,

The dying resplendence inside us all that shines,

While this temporal body,

With fluttering fingers forgets,


That we are but a flicker,

A matter of soul encased in a body living for the dying,

A reprieve in a life cycle long ago begun,

The bang so big,

It spawned life forms that we are as yet unaware,

Beautifully impressive galaxies only recently seen,

Though not soon understood,

As final frontiers are neither final nor frontiers,

But the limits with which our Pygmalion brains Neanderthals,

Produce portraits like those on caves in France,

And though a marvel of intellectual thought,

More still of artistic prowess,

Considering those same misunderstood processes,

Brought us something as divine as a tortilla,

Tortillas prepared by weathered hands,

That have withstood the test of time,

Of wars, economic and imperial,

Personal and spiritual,

Beautiful thumbs opposed liberating us from the grasp of evolution,

(or so we fools believe)

Whilst the lines on the face of the mother of my salvation,

Those we call wrinkles,

Are in fact the marks of a life of struggle and strife,

Dazzling joy and intense sorrow,


Supposed, for what do you really know?

For I and I and I,

Cogito and Scribo Ergo Sum,

Her precious hands perilously preparing,

Flour and water,

Our marginal understanding of life reveals,

In its complexities is something so delicious,

With her weathered and time weakened smile,

She hands me her wares,

Her tortillas,

Like children,

To nourish my stomach and yet enrich my soul,

Divine purpose,

Free from the bondage of hate and intolerance,

Giving of herself the only deliverance she needs,

For her temptation is only my salvation,

Nourishing neurons neatly knowing the unknown,

Those that ascend to higher dimensions,

With greater purpose,

Designed intelligently by binary systems,

Seeking to fit into our three dimensional,

And clearly incremental understanding tolerances,

While beyond the visible spectrum,

Between the unheard frequencies,

Forces are at play that with our unabashed obliviousness,

We can only call such things dark,

Hitherto let that which we can not illuminate no longer be called dark,

But instead as yet eureka sparks,

Choirs of universal strings harmoniously harkening us ever nearer,

Leading us further down an evolutionary path,

Designed by systems we do not know,

Though seek,

As weary wanderers wondering what we become,

Non Omnis Moriar,


Latitudes and longitude,

Cursory understanding of a once flat world,

Just like the magnificent tortilla,

Life affirming,

Produced and procured with grace,


Though stifled by the muted arrogance of limited comprehension,

Seeing not, as we should and someday could,

The magic of each bite.


Written from five words provided by DM from my Posse!


Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s