Parts are parts and parts of parts.
All doing their part.
The birddog barks at a tree
but doesn’t become a bark
because of me.
The flow is mightier than one word
until the word spots me.
Then I become the word and heard
into the bark of the tree
with the dog birding me.
Give me more details than that.
The dog has my sympathy.
The wood barked and that’s that.
God entered the scenery
along with mystery.
No matter what jumbled
it’s got to have humbled.
It’s got to be there for the first time.
Your mind lightens in decline
but will soar out of babble.