Sticks in the Mud

Shorelines of the world of space-time wrap aboat dimensions smaller than tomorrow yesterdays write themselves into Shannon entropy islands one can remember only as shimmering dreams glistening in the distance like timeless love that had all the emotion of worlds to themselves under fogs, beside rain, outside the sunrises and sunsets seen from Mitchner’s castles like Newgrange and World Trade Towers sticks in the mud thought nothing In the darkness of distance a time-line rolls away the home is an empty beauty for the family is gone and would seem strangers to themselves if they were here once again the trees grew, the leaves fell and beauty perceived was perceptibly cold preferring to merge into the teleos of the One and its brave origin of forests dark and autumns gone into winter life materialized and returned for always space-time expands space with momentum contains every appearance, and light every world, galaxy and idea encountering existence to change the change to be more meaningful than being as anything itself resting upon the wave of what is real flowing to full and gone only to those impossibly remaining alive in the past ghost world of what was once Love it can become and will be what is worth the future transcended into somenow mo outlasts in spirit the self-destructive changes of everything materialized forms arising and departing as transverse waves of the one unified fields united like strings strung to fling membranes symbolized rungs providing somehow in action a Universe1.