The point

17 September 2013

Time has passed,
But nothing is lost,
As I shine
In a moment;
So much to gain.
A fixed point,
Always on the move,
As I pine
For this future:
I’ve come to rest.

Who am I,
And what can I do?
Where have I been,
And how did I get there?
Why this hovering
All about the point?

Quick quick slow,
I cannot grasp
As I mine
What has been through,
All things released
To remain here,
The fitting function.
As I slide
Head first only,
Effortless I.

Who was I,
And what did I do?
Where will I go,
And how will I get there?
Why this labouring
Over the point?

Relative,
To a broken brain;
I can’t hide
From the truth,
Beat of the heart,
An instant,
My everyall,
And I mind
Of the time
That makes onenone.

Who will I,
And what will I do?
Where am I now,
And how did I get here?
Why this sharpening
What is my point?

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