Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Occassion


And as celebrations pause and still
So is born a new infant to time
And we have named it 2016
Though time names it otherwise
What it may grow to become is hidden
For nothing is revealed to us
Not weather, nor tides, nor war
But what will develop is instance
A new time that shatters the old
As thoughts and warm pulses spark
Swarm among interconnects and chaos
And tis the sweetness of existence,
                [that we truly know it
We are crystal spirits shaping a universe
With unique, irreplaceable fragments
For every second we may harvest
Is a gift of the universe
We may make of what we will
Mould and shape its presence
And after we have left
Though we shall never see it
We shall have changed it forever
By being these children of occasion