I
Explode! on to the scene detonated by dreams as only you have seen;
You will always be on the path you are walking and you have always been.
Every child that has left her home on that path was born to roam; some
With dreams of making the unknown known (does the unknowable succumb?);
All ways are bound by the limits of humanity yet we're free to make it easier to tread
What greater feat is there in the world than to help and guide they that are misled?

As each child departs, they are well held in the hearts of all those each child knows the most,
Having come close to them as he grew. Alone now, in his own reality, he must exchange youth’s
Caring intimacy for life’s Polonius expediency, which shows no leniency. Few come close
As adults, pure hearts do bear the most, burdened by the masses. Nigh but a few are of great use;
To barely a thimbleful are most known and they're loved by even fewer. But there are those who chose
To walk the path so they might reach a previously unknown thing—to smell an unsmelled rose.

II
It was of the heavens above they did dream for, and for a better world to come. ‘Tis by their longing
A tall mountain ‘rose; blooming from a door their dreaming opened (Their desires blossomed with
Imaginary explosions)
. Nothingness Nevermore! Their mystical mountain, a manifestation of hope
Unknowingly coincided with an ocean floor sunk deeper and an island’s safe shore shrunk more, marauding
Erosion is—Time’s bastard and unforgiven son, drunk with power, a skunk in store—-an embalmed wraith.
Nothingness Nevermore? Might Time befoul what arose as the loftiest human goal, and by being’s purest hope?

Even as the hands of humanity’s hopes hang on the highest heights of their passion’s behemoth
Time makes the depths of the ocean all the deeper and erodes moreover the safest of island shores.
Still, you, pure heart, abiding in good will, join the audacious climb and do bear the toilsome chore
With ambitious bravado. You face the mammoth task with nothing less than lassitude and stay set off:
As if in indolence there was nothing else to do. With an ease quite becoming, you coolly ascend to the apex
To procure purpose—promptly and profoundly; straight from the jaws of uncertainty-is all that one must do next.

III
One moment preceding reaching the goal, you lose yourself in meditative rest.
Having stopped, you eat a delicious Twinkie, nothing more, nothing less,
And ponder the origin of the universe from what seemingly must be the center pole
Your own mental Rome, the ‘Eternal City’ of your, the human, self and soul.
Only one bite left of cream and cake till only the zenith remains, you think, all else behind,
The order of the fluffy sweet-bread injected with sugary vanilla frosting is perfectly designed.

You step upon the promontory point of all human aspirations and cry:

“Oh Universal Mother! Oh You Endless-Nameless! beyond the barriers of Space and Time; as Humanity’s proxy, into Your Infinity shout I,
The I of consciousness that has developed since the beginningless beginning and will exist until the endless end and only by and because
Of Your design! Into Your Infinity shouts the utmost of the life You Yourself ordained! Into Your Infinity shouts the collective will of Humanity! Into your Infinity I shout!!!


MAY WE BE HEARD?!?

WILL WE YET BE HEARD?!?

CAN WE EVER BE HEARD?!?


Into You, Infinity, I shout Then feign to hear an echo.”

IV
You waited there at the peak of dreams entranced by your own conception.
You count imaginary seconds, yearning for a response, any sign of reception;
You struggle against soundless instants, and in your waiting you are startled.
Startled by the screaming howl of a silence unexpected, which shakes you to your core.
Your stomach twists and turns tying a monkey’s fist, which then jumps and bounces more
Than a racquetball after the office lets out. The Twinkie, barely nestled
As deliciously designed as it might have been when it went in
Comes out a semi-viscous mixture of cake, cream, and bile, only partially digested,
No shape, no order, no design, nothing
But human vomit.

V
And what of that mystical mountaintop?
From which you could see as far as you can see
All that you would see, which is all you will ever see;
From that “magical” apex, your ethereal peak will always be
A perpetual penultimate. Ultimately, Time will tell; All our
Individual deeds as well as our greatest general feats,
Without You—
Infinite (yet unheard) Echo, Universal Mother,
You Endless-Nameless-Timeless Being—
Without You there
In the beginning,

Humanity is stranded
On an Island attenuated by erosion,

Left inevitably to be wiped away
by the Talons of Time


in

THE END.



VI
without You
everything falls apart

without You
everything falls apart

without You
the whole world falls apart


This material is copyrighted ©2004


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