A pre-existing condition

Is that we will always travel at the speed of light

And we are all energy

There is no time at our velocity

And we are everywhere at once

 

The recursive nature of time

Dies upon any grid, projected

 

Imagining

That time is sequential

In a way like counting rings

Of a dead tree.

 

Or having your shadow and mine

align by accident

Except in chaos, there are no accidents

 

Make a heart-shaped box

From deluge paper

In it, we appear and disappear

According to frequency and energy

Confined by a field that is all we have

 

Like the shadow of a heart-shaped box

Anywhere there is light

 

 

©2017 Donald W. Hayward