superimposed upon
an unending matrix
our linear regression of it
makes note of our state

can you fly without propulsion?
can you act without impetus?
can you will without thought?
it is through this that sand etches away our mind
the workings of it finely polished brass
turning the hourglass of our own destruction


...of our own joy?

Replies

~inquiry wrote:

     reflection
regardless the glass
      happens
       'who'?
      a spark
     a glimmer
 a passing thought
 soon enough forgot
to be merely thought
   'til the pain
of said ignore-ance
    sees wonder
   and raises it
  to the level of
   a winning hand
  destined to lose