becoming and being and not

he is becoming, being, and not. that is the majesty i see in thomson. as i write this, i can see the outlines of his figure standing in the middle of holographic waves where ripples from the waterfalls and the fish in the lake are erupting, expanding, fading… there thomson is, at the cross section of it all.

he’s simplicity
but also –
all the complexity in the world.

he holds all the hurt and joy of the world within him.

but how?
he couldn’t possibly.

and yet,
when i look at him,
i see the coexistence of all things.

and i can’t help but think,
he is coexistence.