Afara Aka

The turn of a word
like smoke uncurling
from incense
burning.

The slow curl
within which I see
infinity yes time
unfolding into
nothingness
the slow turn that I sense
twice
this sinous flow that makes
its own time
and in time inspires
the hand that carves
that writes and the mind
that beholds
this new theme
that connects
with another aspect
of the infinite
And so is born
a thing
where before there was
nothing.

Brother
Only when I hear
what hears me
is that circle complete
Yes Father.

Sister
Only when I touch
what touches me
is that circle made perfect
Yes Mother.

Afara Aka
the Surface of the Infinite
is the burning end
from which smoke uncurls
the smoke seen
then inhaled
in part and returned
in part
as it turned upward
back into nothing
and upward
back into everything.

Afara Aka, your children
no longer knew
why they should keep ascending
Infinite waters, your children
sought a shore
the voice of fear
had triumphed. Your children
sought solid earth
to stand on
the voice of fear
was victorious.

So they leapt
from your currents
into that which proclaimed
itself
a bountiful ocean.
They shook off your waters
and descended into
that which mimics
your form
while declaring itself
to be everything.
It promises
enchanting shores
this stagnant pond
that disguises itself
as a bountiful ocean.