A simple walk through the neighborhood
Brings to mind the birth of stars mirrored
In blooms of tulip tree blossoms that shoot out
Like delicacies of prose found in memories of posies.
A surface on the lake just when the ice is melting
Shows dendrites like those astrocytes on the manifold
Of mind. A slice of our senses like the shadows
On the wall. We see now in the glass as a laser
Gives out the critical phase, so the tongue marshals
Our slight ken. Ever diminished in light of the receding
Spacetime locus. But growing with the zenith of reason
To a higher non linear curve. Why are we not astounded
When at every resolution there is a striving for perfection?
It is not the heavy ladened mechanics of those dire prophesies
Of perpetual frozen matter insensate like Dante’s Satan’s lair.
No not those chaotic screech owl like random walks,
But a nobler resolution as true as the gift of the lightning rod
Through freedom to convoke communion in purpose.
We see an axis in the cosmos like sugar and protein
And impossible configurations to shift toward the light
Synthetic of the mindseye. If there be not here a motive
To surcease of sorrow, then there will never be one.
What madness hath overtaken us like children of Gorgon
Only to be forever reliving our Atreus like poisoned
Genetic dance? Yet the motion of helix can be a disease
Or a blessing. We are built like Damocles through and through.
Which way will you choose, oh futurity? There is but one path
On the labyrinth of causation.
The bird flies as our heart lifts we exhale our soul’s sail.
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