Where Thinking Ends

I have seen where thinking ends.
The unbridled love that
That holds us all.
The criminal.
The police.
The children at school.
Lovers and fools.
All scapegoats.
One and all.
Cursed by a view of black and white,
On screens painted at night
By the mind
In primitive flight.
Yet all held by our mother
Dear Papatuanuku.
Held in her forest of love.
I have seen where thinking ends –
In my heart of love.
I have learned
There’s nowhere to go,
No path to walk
Through forests dark.
Nothing to learn.
No stone to turn.
Only here.
Only this.

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