Saturday, 26 November 2011

Creation. Lossy. Less?

Before time begot a moment, when space was fine and thin,
When oil had to yet to crystalize, sun light from the wind
The tear of Now emerged, on chaos' ruffled cheek,
It sputered and it splurged, it sang itself a beat
It sang the songs of beauty
of wonder and of speed
of mischief and recursion
of wheels and golden deeds
Waves crashing though the fortress, spinning change beneath their feet,
sine and cos, exporation, chaotic to the teeth.
Chaotic, just to breathe.
Marauders, take a seat
Breathe a whiff of carbon's jiff and staple nitrogen to your knees.
Singing hydrogen  -  sing the flurry.
Sing an atmosphere of courage
Sip on grandma's morning porridge.
Keep a rock beneath your feet.
A hawk within your reach?
A spinning rock beneath your feet.
Jump and breathe
So the howl of creation ripped apart-icle
Ripped a-flow,
Ripped a massive bubble flame
Ripped a photon, just for show
Ripped gravity from the tension
and sonar from its mask
Ripped magnets from the dangle
of Higgsy trippin past


calls the soul, dreaming, stretching thin,
"There is less of me for Now, and more of me for When.
Whenever will I find, this Oneness that has past
What is left for me to do, however will I get back.

... Jack?

so She peopled and She prayed
She danced and sung of joy
She protected and She played
She drank and She destroyed
She discovered and She wrote
She wondered and She dreamed
She ensnared the famous Oak
and She yearned to set him free.
To let him Be.

And they sat by shade of tree.

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