Earth

Written while I was repeatedly listening to “Golden Brown”*

Image: Arek Socha / Pixabay

A spherical matrix.
The host of both the unique and the ordinary.
An entity so big
and so small if you dig.

A matter full of spirit.
A spirit full of matter.
Energy formed, energy flexible.
Alchemy only in silence is perceptible.

So many events
in so many microcosms.
Everything is open to
8 billion points of view.

Yet, objectivity waits patiently
to free the thoraxes, one by one.
It’s deep inside the subjective;
the individual is the collective.

So many monads
spell and combine “w” and “h” and “y”.
These are sounds, letters
we think we need as shelters.

What’s there to explain?
If there is a cause?
Brains exclude causeless-ness,
but it may be the opposite of the mess.