Moki Mioke

For is it not excellence when ancient whales sing to each other
in the depths the grey parts of the deep blue?
If given the opportunity, I shall swim in my suit of armor, cling to 
shattered pieces of boats floating in oceans and make my way there,
sing to the whale who knows deep within where answers lie.

The grass though cut has many stories roots remain untethered 
despite our attempts to spurt the growing,
grasses know they speak tales of the better days when winds
quiet noises from busy streets and bystanders.

My soul it houses cherished rubies and mines of diamonds,
the kind that ascends into the realms of eternal where lives
are collected excellence is found there, no body to ask for the feeding.

We may think that trees are inept but there is not one which does
not house excellence in it’s core, the roots extend into underground chains
feeding through tubes invisible to the eye their offspring the surrounding
surroundings, you.

Excellent writing housed in one’s memory is stored away and cherished 
by mankind for it is made of hands dripping sacred oil expressions 
of the heart of the world, excellence undertaken through will and 
need to connect with the outer world of partial beings.

Mushroom, look at the caviar the pearl the expense on nature’s
finest we attend to it when it is given a price when fancy seasoning
applies and caters to the finer in life,
yet alone they exist as excellent in birth right they know too how do shells
produce such wonders?

Excellence is present within us and around
it is for the taking and in being rustling amongst the leaves covered in the fields
we need not give it a value yet we value,
how are you not excellent my friend?