Friday, March 3, 2017

Everything is Calculated to Implode

From one moment to the next,
in a dynamic bundle of coalescence,
my mind keeps coming together!
A multifaceted perpetuated amalgamation
of infinite collapsing wavelengths,
ever creating growing patterns of significance,
in a cross referenced sequence of developing design.
An ever more complex and sophisticated entity of reflections,
emerging from itself, expanding and collapsing,
ever greater in dimensions, again and again.
Sublime and Divine ever striving for harmony,
a vibrating story line appearing to materialize,
shimmering and undulating and ever out of grasp,
all in sparkling effervescence, spinning particles of dissipating mass.
All in an ebb and flow of evanescent sentiment,
nothing is good enough to remain,
nothing so bad it doesn't have its instant,
perpetuated oscillation in a particle of time.
Nothing is mine. Not even my mind.

In my brain are growing like crystals,
formations of protein, never before seen.
An antenna for the sublime and the obscene.
Created per the dictates of chemistry,
factored by the nature of DNA.
An exponential growth of experiential wisdom,
the becoming embodiment of an ancient dream.

First there is the end and then
comes the beginning, striving for completion.
Time is a sequence of resonating visions,
calculated to move forward in the progression
of a developing lesson.
Leaving behind a reasonable conclusion
that is ever losing its substance
in a growing context. Nothing stays the same
but the experience of change evolves,
from the dense and the opaque dissolved
come a translucent solution,
settling into a limpid liquidity,
a serene pool of self reflection,
a pond to ponder contemplation.

How long can I live like this?
Am I not subject to materiel fatigue?
If The Creator sustains me, will I forever endure?
Is it my will or His, that I persevere?
I would be resolutely persistent,
even just a quivering flame,
dancing in hope,
alone in a tempest of scorn and disdain.

Now an angel is an occasion of localized Divinity,
a terminal of Sublimity
in a communication between the eternal
and that which must come and go.
And the angel tells me what I already know.

I will not be here forever by any means.
And in the mean time it surely seems
that everything is calculated to implode.

A Catastrophic Tragedy. Maybe Not!


Jonathan Michael Robbins

= 939=

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