All things are neutral in themselves.
We bathe them in our feelings
when we linger in traditions
and temptations and our needs.
When we are hungry and can find no food
or expect a flowering that does not appear,
the empty table loses all neutrality,
the healthy vine withers in our eyes.
All things seem neutral in themselves
and yearning for completeness
build themselves like neutral blossoms
spreading past all accident.
An exchange of words is neutral in itself
We choose a place that’s neutral in itself
Conversation’s interrupted by a knock
A stewart enters, and we meet no more.
All things are neutral in themselves
and seem to breathe outside of dream
and sweep beyond all accident
act and process seeming neutral in themselves.
At nightfall, other stories breed
bloom, glare, slaugther of new wars
as life fragments yearning for completeness
build themselves like neutral blossoms.
Image: Hand drawn winged bean. Original from Biodiversity Heritage Library. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel.