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Oct 2010
nothing
is infinite,
and that very nothingness
is filled
with countless calculations
leaves fall under the weight of numbers
lights are extinguished by counting
everything is a living ghost of something
just as the sky bears the weight of clouds
so too does life hold me
my forms shift and are vaporous
my body was an ocean
my spirit is the storm
in a moment i crash onto rocks
and in another i return to myself
all at once i am the warmth of a seed
and the cold shaking edge of a tree
but just as silence serves as the cup
to sweeten a sparrows song
so does my exit mark
where i'm from.
Copyright 2010

some ponderings on the holographic principle
Written by
Craig Reynolds
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