To watch the clouds roll on the firmaments plain,
Both within, and without, their expression won't wait

Observe sun-lit rain falling all in silkened threads,
Descending to proclaim 'earths rock be thy dream bed'

There water grew static as a new storm of green
An epoch of floral tempests only the sky had then seen

Inspired perhaps by radiations spectroscopic artistries
They desired to wear waves from 495 to 570

What mad dreams the clouds cried out of such passion to be
Miraculous life, the nuclear fruit bore from star to tree

Matter motioned towards conscious devotion to survive
Unconscious becoming conscious predation of others nuclear awareness' to stay just a while consciously alive

Electronivorous cardiomagnetics emanating fields of matter fine
Introspective auric spheres vibrate to harmonies a'chime

Such hearts all a-hum to dimensions they defined
And so from a singularity there would be a beautiful mind

What flowers that bloom on these electric fields,
The art-forms, machinations that matters personal reality yields

Richest pollen for the mind is the written fantasy
Colourful petals formed by guitar pedals is one beings audio-mis en scene

How many depictions for the eyes there are of Venus' divine bodies
No greater art form than complementing aspect, force, and frequency

Oh First Cloud, sailing horizons where one never sees the limitless sky
For there is naught else to compare, no antithesis or edge to help define

We find there forms for pleasure, pain, ideals, but not answers to the neu(t)rons darkest, heaviest dreams
Flung through a universe without Dao, only gravity and dopamine

Matter would politicise, while surfing a rock in a black sea round just one of many long blazing days

Their surfing worlds, mirrors of radiation coursing through an existential void-walled maze