Layer a white cold blaze
in circular pool
hung
where the reflection of day
carries to the infinite
teeming void.
Shadowscape of eternity
ever beyond
incandescent blue skies,
milky clouds,
beyond sun-blinded sight,
always sitting.
Wonderland of possibilities
bending even science
to use imagination.
Endlessly faltering
towards an unknowable end.
The Gods baubles
spin deftly
through the deepest darks
of cavernous black gone noir.
Never bound,
never stuck,
not clasped tight inside
of opulent bondage
as we marching mortals
on our madhouse Earth.
Into that idea –
that dizzy concept which
forged new words
to try and constrain
something so terribly VAST –
where all is birthed
through cataclysm,
fiery destruction,
demises so profound
dust from their corpses span eons,
rages as a furnace
crafts awakening
in billions of new forms.
Peace is found
within mirrored
microcosm eyes
of any
who would choose to pray,
take silent reverie
in joyful awe,
of beauty without boundaries,
and their own
immeasurable nothingness.