Scatter and the Center

O, a head,
the spark,
the beginning,
the seed that remembers the sun.

O, a head,
birth flings us outward,
centrifugal, spiraling,
each soul a drop
cast into the spinning vast.

O, a head—
wisdom pulls us inward,
centripetal,
drawing scattered dust
back to the breath
that first said be.

O, a head,
we expand in number,
we multiply in form,
and every form
is a question
the One asks of itself.

O, a head,
to be many
is to complete the circle;
to scatter
is to see the face of unity
from every direction.

O, a head,
we are scouts of awareness,
sent to the farthest corners of the dark,
yet bound by a thread
that never breaks.

O, a head,
each thought,
each cry,
each act of love
a ripple returning
to its unseen center.

O, a head,
the dance is endless:
expansion, contraction,
birth, return,
the outward fling,
the inward song.

O, a head,
the spark remembers,
the seed unfolds,
the circle breathes again.