Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Big Deal


If I were to exercise my right to fly; if I were to float up to the ceiling and look down from the point of view of the humming lights; this dancing crowd would be as a mass in Brownian motion, connected as it were, by deep links in the Medulla Oblongata, to the off-kilter thread that runs through the beat of the music.
And if I were to focus in closer I would be able to see the electrons dance around dangerous atoms, each in its own sphere of isolation, each predetermined in its course toward a decaying orbit of domestic duties for the crazed caretaker god.
And if I were to zoom away for light millennia, I would see that we are all just infinitesimally miniscule electric sparks between the motes of dust that constitute a universe that is falling from the dustpan of that god; tumbling fumbling end over end in a sunbeam whose dimensions evade the comprehension of our misfiring mite minds.

2 comments:

Rancho Perros Bravos said...

Words like jewels, arranged so they show it all. They just keep reflecting inward.

elasticwaistbandlady said...

Yes, as so truthfully and eloquently stated by 70's rock band, Kansas, "All we are is dust in the wind".

I wanted to post more but I need to go look up the definition of infinitesimally. Not only did you leave me with a profound thought for the day but also a vocabulary word. Thanks Pisces!

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