Pyramids of horseshit leveled by last night's rain, some branches knocked down
as fresh leaves spring up with "the depthless line at the beginning of things."

            Where there is no life,
     as measured against human life,
    there is "a heap of broken images"
good only as potential life; or what was
    once living, but didn't evolve into,
            the life that is our life.

Turning around at the rusty gate that swings open to the National Forest, the whole
bloody business reveals a god, therewith placing war among the authentic phenomena
of religion. And that is why I backtracked over several hills until reaching what looked
like the same gate!

Here I recalled a story in which a man walked out of a city; and after walking a long
distance in the same direction found himself at the gate of the same city! The more

familiar the path,
the more
uncertain the way.