This document is in the public domain. Word-Matrix 1: Neo-upanishads at the seven mile creek Water Offerings Offerings of cold spring waters, as they slip through my fingers are falling flower cascades of fire by the giving grace of the sun's rays To you this cascade you give you For what else can i give I but eye the slipping offering splash into fountain-kisses upon the fractal terrains of your mossy face White snow melting off of mountain-tops are flowing offerings of the spring waters The shell armor of the sea-beings are now rolling off of pebbles to becoming Sun-jerked winds of no-found lands are french-kissing blue ocean-maid-lets to kidnap them on their love-chariots drawn by seven rainbow fire-horses They love-zenith as dense white clouds and ripen to nimbus, elements in love Now falls rain on land's chapped lips like a long-lost pup suckling her mom's milk Word-Matrix 2: Neo-upanishads at the seven mile creek Dancing for bloom-age A new epic for a new age is written by the dances of rainbow warrior souls on the edges of sharp unforgiving razor blades Balancing beyond pleasures and pains with the glowing all-knowing torch exploding on one and love blossoms imploding on another vein Melancholy murmurs of the world's unwanted linger on flute-notes that winds play through bamboo forests drilled by us parasites Lingering echoes mingling in my ears, I says Mingling you and i as fluids in moving ocean waves Water still flows as water, as always Even carving right through rock's face Gently dancing on imposed thorn-scapes, our feet bleed-writing epics for a bloom-age Hop in dancing to not make the hoop break. Word Matrix 3: Neo-Upanishads at the seven mile creek Sword that laugh-cries With the sword that laugh-cries cut through the woven maze only to touch you, Oh dancing flames The pleasures that these touches bring are as cyclones that oceans swing into all thirsty minds in the i-land Little birds from south see more snow than used to be... Shivering, not withstanding us masons Voices of myriad forms sing-cry the peaceful song to tear-shower these greed-arid seasons Now, you and i as brooks do, join hands into raging rivers that flow into each other's oceans.