For us… as we exist and grope as the livingness of evolution itself.

There are vast realms of consciousness still undreamed of
vast ranges of experience,
like the humming of unseen harps,
we know nothing of, within us.
Oh when man has escaped
from the barbed-wire entanglement of his own ideas
& his own mechanical devices
there is a marvellous rich world of contact & sheer fluid beauty
& fearless face-to-face awareness of now-naked life
& me, & you, & other men & women & grapes,
& ghouls, & ghosts & green moonlight
& ruddy-orange limbs stirring the limbs of the unknown air,
& eyes so soft, softer than the space between the stars.
And all things, & nothing, & being & not-being
alternately palpitate,
when at last, we escape the barbed-wire enclosure
of Know-Thyself, knowing we can never know,
we can but touch, & wonder, & ponder,
& make our effort & dangle in a last fastidious fine delight
as the fuchsia does,
dangling her reckless drop of purple
after so much putting forth
& the slow mounting marvel of a little tree.
~ D. H. Lawrence

In Unity,

Patricia