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The Dance (Free verse) by Quarton

Time's beginning, born of singularity, hurtling outward and transformed; the whole dispersed in passing surrender to its parts. Infinite density transmuted into the illusion of separateness where all possibilities occur, duality becoming reality once more. Newly created life, born of stars in death's throes; exploding supernovas with fertile cosmic energy sowing the womb of future being as evolution gradually unfolds in ever increasing complexity. Energy disperses outward in expansion, creating time and space in its wake, chance assuring strange phenomena will occur; solitary reality merely delusion as cosmic events ensue and new universes suddenly appear. Wildly spinning particles become energy's dervish, nebulous points merging one into another, again united in brief reunion, only to vanish anew, disappearance in harmony with the eternal cosmic dance; Brahma and Vishnu--creation and destruction, all things but reflections of the one, all encompassing organic whole. From emptiness, more particles appear, merging into unbroken unity, outside form and percept--beyond notion, past even space and time while energy patterns cavort playfully; both wave and particle, together forming quantum's enigma. All is transformed as consciousness merges and becomes one with self, an infinite convergence where dualism and time cease to exist; our intuited separation but a mundane, temporal notion obscuring the cosmic web, external world woven into internal and united, self-awareness engendered-- the universe embodied and aware. Untold ancient cycles play out their celestial roles of birth and death-- emptiness and form--reality and fantasy as endless patterns pervade. Our conceptual emotions ineffable, residing in abstraction's realm; a state of being joined with the internal, an unsolvable, theoretical puzzle; beyond form and word-- beyond concept and the illusion of division-- to the center where truth resides. In concert, the spider weaves her web, as clusters of form appear, born of dancing particles frolicking in and out of existence. The perceived cosmic dancers but illusion in fantasy's world as finite reality obscures shared unity; unaware there is only the dance--without form and timeless.

Quarton 19-Dec-02/6:13 PM
Yes, you are correct and a good day to you also.




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