The rope.
Inching, inching.
from the real
in' passed
Well?
With water
Further, further
alone the line
Singular and fine
one mans stand
A whole dug.
Building a niche
Grounding below
Into the bedrock
Anchoring that beady spy
Winding out
to a given raven
To keep me an eye.
rope knotted
speaking of distances
Razing and raising
Her own little knoll.
So that when the wash.
sanctifies this maybe knot
Collapsing the paradox
adding a weft to a weave
on this plane pattern
To all those who suppose
Only that which matters
Matters.
And her mind matters
Most of all.
When all else fails.
To call out..
For better answers.
Her only proof...
IS...
It hasn't isn't probably, wont ever...
Work...
For the best of man in his own kind of bubble and isolation, to become all that she is capable of becoming.
when taught.
the subject, subjectivly, being the entity of that gene code.... expressing their nature not at all capable of change.
Is an illusion...
know the mater.
Of Watt
Know the matter of mind,
And you two..
may emerge as the third
ephemeral
abstract
eye... co-ordinating
being an all things within a one...
Step away from the certainty..
And consider..
The answer...
Has yet to be revealed.
So why would you already have...
Jumped on their wagon...
©wrennie
W