X marks the spot, cross your heart, hope to die.
Swear it’s here where your ex was, or was not.
Your ex, until he or she got burned, was cross.
Cross the street and join me, make no excuse.
Tightly woven patterns, some might be of use.
Can we be sure, as these paths join, diverge?
Comingled, they might well change direction.
How, I ask, would we ever know or discern?
Does it matter when they cross others in turn?
Yet we always view just pieces of our lives,
Not realizing each is joined to each and all,
Forever one, earth, wind, fire, water, all us.
Are we then mere reflections of the universe?
Our pool so still and clear, our vision moiled
With all thought, music, art, degradation, war.
Whatever we create exists, returns and crosses.
Albeit imperfectly, as you might well surmise.
To truly understand and know, in each sunrise.
Get cross, double-cross, sign a cross, crossover.
Do we value these intersections far too much?
Though I suppose X still marks the spot, or not.
Peace is Purpose, Nonviolence is Strength, Diversity is Unity, Empathy is Empowerment
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