It was only natural,
the moon mattered more &
the stars too trivial to twinkle.
It was as expected,
as time unfolds memory,ensues,
enframes and borders the view.
It was
more than the medium
or the membrane, the skin sheds and mind
stretches out for much more.
It matters,
Even when it is all the same-
when forever ended time and again, a perfect moment
stolen in a last sunrise-
for Good.
It was only natural
light, reaches the furthest corners and bounces
back.
On a curve,
photons careen in corners,
where
sovereign circles can spin spirals…
Dross traces of dark matter will devour all the same,
sanding the edges
smooth
for the first Time.
Painting by Wassily Kandinsky, Heavy Circles 1927 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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