I don’t even know the difference,
Between myself and my environment,
Between myself and this inexhaustible world;
Where are its borders?
Wielding the first human tool,
My perceptions, my sensuous nature,
The borders are clear;
Any representational artist can see this.
Murk infests the waters when we “look” beyond.
I see the lush grass,
The plush blanket of earth (though this is dwindling)
And I see it, too, within myself.
The percept becomes the perceiver,
Distinctions between nature and nurture evaporate;
For we are nurtured by nature,
And all without is within.