Without stress or strain, time waxes and wanes, in pieces and sometimes complete; a vast Nameless Power, makes drought and rain-shower, sunshine, rainbow, thunder, and sleet. The ride can get bumpy, it goes fast and slow, give in to the chaos and go with the flow, have done now with yearning and foul discontent, if it hasn't happened yet it wasn't meant. A net spans the cosmos, it lets nothing through, we are all ensnared it in – him, me, and you; for us there is nothing, but silence and smiles, we stare like the infant, our gaze goes for miles. The Form it is formless, the Image is null, its edges are rounded, its surface is dull, its boundaries shifting, expanding, and vast, its anchor within us we each find at last.
© americanifesto / 場黑麥
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