warm bronze momentum, the dance
                   a mindless passage through the narrows of a glass world
an hourglass – blown into shape by the creep of evolution
a cradle for fragile eggshell minds; but spirits of the dead still enter
                   to brace against the unexpected of everything that is expected

every person’s fabric stitched together in a day, by thin strands of relationship
the constructs are formed so delicate, that they can unravel at any moment
                   ephemeral but to be placed under the rock – the rock of ritual

the rock is pulverized into sand by the wave, and curved glass distorts vision
                   pressed against the cold barrier, you come face to face with life’s futility
to perceive as forever, to create new realities through a mind that loves and hates
                   the damage that is done
                   how do we once again, feel our planet’s rhythm?

familiar repetition delivers false hope – an unrealistic comfort, a tropical panacea
einstein’s equations are full of black holes
the gravity slave must be constantly turned over, again and again by vigilant hands
                   we pass from one globe to another
                   to stand alone among the others
                   a measure, of that which is relative

relative? relative to what? relative to me, relative to you
                   the relativity of me to you and the sunset
                   bleeding fire through the glass
we pass the day, traveling back and forth through the neck of our own construct

Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2014 V Perrotti