Transported to a time to come,
No longer conscious of what has been,
Memories lengthened to nothing or dramatically foreshortened;
Thoughts roll on the pulsing digits without.
There is no reach past the borders of reflection,
No community forged to face an enemy:
Loneliness scours the little freedom we seek,
The Company invisible to the extended world,
Infused in the mind like an aggregate;
What has aligned the heart, preserved the will?
The instinctual life beating its drum,
Carrying us over to a shore we cannot reach:
Constructs the props, costumes fabricated,
One more act to shape the dream.
Red dust plays beneath the feet,
An unending wave of unstoppable force
Tore through the created realm:
Space beaten into itself, mind flattened to a facet
That receives the light of a single source
Unrefracted in nature or in thought’s delight.
Pale wavering forms dance above the void
Without human grace articulated through gravity,
Engineered on a wheel of suffering:
The grinding under of creation, nullification of wonder;
Slow drip of the quotidian fills a separate peace,
Nothing incarnate can live without.
Love hold me to what might be or have been,
The dawning of oblivion.

© ross 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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very serious thinking here written with poetic precision.
nothing incarnate can live without. i know what you mean.

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