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Theories of the Multiverse: I-IV

Four Brief Bridges to Endless Ideas

I: Like a Mirror
 
Like a mirror unto eternity;
Screening all the twisting ways
Of present, past, and future’s last
Deceptive halcyon days;
We often wonder of the world
That never came to be;
Transparent dreams of so much more,
Stopped short at reality.
Another glare passed by each night
Another likeness birthed of me.
 
 
II:  Once Upon a Time
 
One step forward; two steps back;
Each direction into rivulets’ path.
Where am I going; who have I been?
The time worn questions come to calling again.
One moment a god, next moment a pawn;
There’s only so much until I’m dead and gone.
Who will remember, when did I shine
What follows in my name for “Once Upon a Time…”?
 
 
III: A Great Canvas
 
This small space filled with papers, so pleasantly white.
Splattered drops of color, thick with morbid delight.
The last breath of the songbird left behind in the snow;
For whatever compulsion guides us away from the flock
We take pleasure in keeping our burdens in tow.
 
 
We spoke once of all your knocks at my door;
Averting our gaze, we don’t bring much anymore
To the deposits at venues of loving and grief.
Nightmares ended for the price of a life;
A drug taken further with each unwanted score.
Staring back at each other, there’s only one in the room;
After all, love makes the red roses bloom.
In great surplus or absence;
To our head, from our veins.
The mother, the daughter, the now helpless ghost;
Such a delicate balance; what’s needed the most
 
Seems in our minds to come a second too late;
Delayed, perhaps, in the great canvas of fate.
What it speaks now for me is not mine anymore
Looking back at you, from above or below ;
What needs must come now, keep your head up as you do
It’s not nearly your fault there’s so much I don’t know.
 
IV: Grand Design
Birds of a feather form from the wing;
Just as ripples of fate echo from the same seam
That takes a full life of tears, sweat and blood
Tilting to pour
Across our all-encompassing shores
And builds statues of clay from our chaotic mud.
How often we’ve stopped to caress the thought;
The maddening silence of the universe
And it’s enigmatic lack of charm
Could simply want to place us here
With no intent to harm
Or nurture, instead neutrality tamed
Against stories that keep our children entertained;
Secretly carry dreams that fought to remain,
Aiming to see;
Enigmas to the care of nature are we.

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