The Unknown

What atoms do to be the bud,
the full blown floral and even mud,
the eye formed with the blossoms read,
humility, the soil, the bed ;
I laugh at starlings in the sun
for so ungainly do they feed,
until they fly away as one
when I can see that I have need,
thus if I stand upon my head
to see the world from upside down,
may Buddha be my very breath,
my oxygen, be the unknown.

Copyright 2008 by Roy K. Austin