All these incarnates of GOD.

Who can see them
Are they not about me like gnarls
That grow and swell and push
Their way into the world

Who can hear them
As they sing their death songs
How fast it seems to approach
Yet it is not at all – this dying
And living are but ONE

Who can feel them
As they pulse and vibrate
Not knowing that it is WE
Who hold the world in place