Breathing Through My Sole

I am in full grok of wondrous suchness feeling my sole as my soul and the sol of solitude the sun; thus mouths in my bare feet hungrier for moonlight than the pulsing wound in the crown of my skull; because the word for dust in Hebrew is "adamah," and the word for breath is the word for spirit, and ancient languages tell us how to sing not how to think; the Qi, the Ruuh, the Pneuma, the pun of soul on breath, the Lord breathing into Adamic dust to make a living person, a "nephesh," from the verb "nephash" to breathe, and yes these unshod soles are puns that make me free to wander naked in my garden under the New Moon of the First Planting, and to inhale through my whole body, from the ground up, exhaling through my crown, a dark alchemical musky fountain changing sod to consciousness, like a larva full of stars.