How human it is to speak with a drawl
to define and expound and interpret it all,
naming objects and assigning a label
placing a meaning and fixing it stable.

Is it really that thing that we named, overweening
or is it's existence outside of our meaning.
A teacup exists in a ritual of convention
a utilitarian Chinese invention.

But it's also a collection of bone dust and clay
the function transforming the substance this way,
the matter and molecule existed before
and after it's broken it's bone dust once more.

We build a construction of nouns in our head,
the meaning assigns a convenient "instead"
As the vessel returns to it's matter
language and labels and meaning will scatter.

Impermanence is both fickle and cruel
but in a grand triumph of human renewal.
we impose hope in our order once more
pretending that chaos bends to our lore.