The More We Know The More We Roam
There is great fatness in those who speculate. Much fatness fixed by admired contemplation. Fecund, these excesses, like the citizen-ecstasy that clings to us as we, this solidarity of intent, make cellular our way through trees that sprawl into being. Much admired fatness in us who consider ontologies as forests fraught with death. That their hushed dark be of an absence decay sanctifies. That every "ending" of root cap & meristem penetrate the sprawl of emptiness. That the "thought" of Q. fecundus sustain the thing itself at rest yet restless within the acorn's munificence.
Much admired, those who speculate increase as the satisfaction of energy & this generation the ineffable satisfaction of the empty. To say the fatness of creation companions voids that engender the spoil of stars. This sprawl of light, its ruin to give rise to the speculation of ferment, of filaments alive in this hushed dark; learning to thrive in this absence decay has discovered—a reason why the dead sink; why gas, dust & intelligence drift into solum. The charity of a tree or a sun that makes for a sun or a tree fat with speculation.
And of course, the reason for acorns.
