In The Wisdom Of A Sap

immortal tree sap

We are but a speck of stardust, and yet,

we, too, arise and shine boldly,

as if we were immortal.

Uncle Tree


The Pulse Of Twenty Sixteen


Yesterday, an old thought returned; a thought birthed from the far-sighted thoughts of Hermann Hesse.
Oh, yes, we do long for permanence. Who doesn’t wish to be remembered 2000 years from now, in 4016?

Looks weird, doesn’t it? Add 10,000: 12,016 — more like a number used to count inventory, not years; not human years anyway, nor an ape’s.

So, I ask myself: What is the goal of humanity, if we cannot make a permanent dent on the reality of a physical universe? Or, perhaps, does our existence reflect the fact that we are currently the living result of a permanent dent; an impregnated bulge, which pulses time away into the God-thought of Infinity?

Asks Uncle Tree…

A Taste Of Uncle Tree: Assorted Fruits

Uncle-tree-_colour_flat-TEXT_sml (1)

By the good Book we learn, but by way of experience
we know, and knowing is so much better than believing,
for the sacred root of trust grows from confidence in the Lord,
and the deeper we trust, the more our faith strengthens.

Blind faith means: giving up the right to choose.
We were born to question, but only solutions build trust.


Once upon a Time, God spoke to men and women directly.
These human beings wrote down what God said to them.
After a few centuries, a select group of men gathered
a great many of these writings together, and decided
they had enough to make a Book of Books. After judging
some of the stories unfit, they put the remaining
books in an order befitting The Story, and called
the chosen writings scripture. Then they said,

“No words shall be added or taken away from The Bible.”

I surmise, from that day forward,
God ceased to speak to Man.
Or nowadays, if He does get vocal,
and someone jots down His words,
no one else will believe them,
and scripture it shall never be.

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A Fairy Tale Worth Living

Photograph by Kirstie Watson


Is it more worth one’s while

to live a life worth writing about, or

to write about a life that is worth the living?


Is it more worth one’s while

to act out a scene worth painting, or

to paint a picture that is worth a view or two?


Is it more worth one’s while

to take the time deemed necessary to dream up a fairy tale, or

to live a life worth earning the good luck it takes

to live out a fairy tale dream?


All The Time In The World


Hypothetically speaking, we tend to play with “What if…?” a lot.

It is as if we wish we could get better at guessing.

Try this one on for size, if you will —

Should we live life as if we have

all the time in the world?


Since when is Time itself in the world?

If Time is not of this world, then neither are we.

Time is immaterial, and yet, we materially belong to It.


Prima materia has no form, therefore it matters.

Something funny is going on between the times.

If formless existence comes first,

is it not a miracle that we alone give secondary form to reality?


We are alone, you know, in a sense.

There is only you and me, right now, dear reader.

One of us matters…and one of us does not.

One of us sees, whilst the other informs.

Why should it matter who is who?


We live on a temporal globe that exists in space.

Dependency is a worldly part of the game.

Our loving, benevolent sun’s existence depends on

our intelligent perceptions.

The nuclear clock tick-talks-tick-talks, not caring if ears can hear.


Humanity is destined to live elsewhere.

We will navigate and gravitate to another heavenly place.

Our world is transferable,

surely as our souls do transmigrate

to and through all inevitable eventualities.


Uncle Tree Houses Homeless Meanderer

Headlines: Dogma Chases Catastrophic Consequences


Uncle Tree’s dastardly dilemma for the day consisted of an unwanted guest and a broken down communication device. Deciding not to dwell on the current demands made by the hard-of-hearing, he spent most of the afternoon hours contemplating, or mulling over, several conspicuous and altogether concocted trivial pursuits originating in, and entirely coordinated by the meandering mind of man.

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The Shady Side Of Grey

monochrome rainbow

Choices can be black or white

for each dog gets one day

Yes & No — both come to fight

the shady side of grey

Colours blend inside a rainbow

Flats and sharps are sublime

Every answer has a shadow

Close counts some of the time!

So make your rules with this in mind

remember who they’re for

Imperfekt humans halfway blind

will often choose the wrong door

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