grounded in this reality
always, something keeps me. today it is my jeans, digging into the soft skin under my belly, reminding me
this world was not crafted around my form
How beautiful a phenomenon to behold, the act of learning without thinking.
The nature of living things.
I do think upon what the effect of making my bed every morning may be.
I do think about the ending of a sentence, the pause and effect.
But can I know every such thing about my biology?
Can I know more about my every atom in the space of being?
A terrifically ungraspable question to ask.
What do words do, to the firing of each synapse, in every language that has been?
Even the machine literature.
I speak to the god of life within reason, cause and effect.
I speak of collisions.
I speak of patterns that are too perfect in a beehive.
How fascinating it is to ask this in so many cryptic ways.
© Johan Nel 2018.07.06
Wondering here like a dream;
The moon to my left,
Sat here on my balcony.
A soft breeze brushes my hair;
Calm as a kiss,
My mind drifts in the air.
A cars headlights glide over the horizon;
The darkness finds comfort
Till it hits lights at London;
Red sparkles glisten and glimmer;
Shivering remnants of life
In an empty place for sinners.
The opposite shine up above;
Stars in darkness,
Thinking love not enough.
The only way to come back down to earth
Is by looking up at night
To be lost in a universe.
— The End —