28 July 2014

Two Hundred and Fifty-Seven


Every part and particle throughout the entire cosmos magically synchronized,
Spontaneous, impromptu, unplanned, unarranged, unpremeditated, unprepared, unrehearsed,
Extemporaneous, improvised, makeshift, spur-of-the-moment, off-the-cuff,
Ad-libbed, ad hocked, played by ear, on the fly, on cue.
What an amazing beyond-all-pales thing,
This quantum singularity.
And you are it, and it is you, there is no other.

* * * *
We are all sovereign players in each other’s dreams.
Whether key roles, or merely shadows in a crowd,
It is the same for all, whatever the stage or play.

* * * *
For those who are awaiting
One savior or another,
What is there really to salvage
But a world chock-full of laughable vanity?

* * * *
Do everything, do nothing,
The illusion of time and space
Ever drifts along the same.

* * * *
Dread is the worry over time,
Of what may yet come,
Of what may yet be endured,
All born of the ramblings of imagination.
Anticipation only creates unnecessary pain in advance
Over things that may never even happen.
Best just to jump in a cold stream
Without thinking about it.

* * * *
The sciences can only peer into the hypothetical-theoretical so long
Before it all becomes, for-all-practical-purposes, an unknowable void,
Which is the word-filled domain of philosophers, mystics, and fools.

* * * *
Considering that you feel all but done after just one rather fleeting dreamtime of a lifetime,
If there is some sort of supreme deity of an omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent nature,
How beyond-the-pale weary it must be having to witness the human paradigm for eons.