doomed to perfection

i find myself
in a moment of satori
in the veld
with the sudden realisation

everything is perfect
as it is

the cabbage tree cabbages
the karee karees
every tree trees
every leaf leaps
perfectly leafing
every atom in its place

or two
or ten
it's when we look
that we affect it

everything that is
is only one thing
everything
and it
is

fitted together
with everything else

that destroys
or feeds it

it's the springbok
the lion
the veld
the fire
it's everything

just as it should be
even man

with his pains
and his cancer
his bombs
and his banks
and his all-consuming ego
that changes the world

flourishes
like the bear

even better than the bear
more like a bear
with a bomb

later that evening
glass of wine in hand
i throw a piece of perfect creation
on my perfect fire
i notice the destructive flames
licking the wood
of the tree that was
with bits of sun escaping from it
to keep me warm

warm enough
to forget
cold
and cares

for the chance to wonder
whether god too sometimes
when she's in her element
looking down on mankind

perhaps with a glass of divine wine
in the divine equivalent of a hand

beholds war
and like me
remarks

now isn't this
just
a cosy little
campfire!

and i wonder
who god
would have said it to