The Great Attractor

I see you from here in my violet space
the fluid of velvet vacuum
smooth field of potential
subsumed with the pink-noise babble
of voices, the hum chatter,
like the dry wheat of static electricity that lives over the surface of a latex balloon,
the city of atoms on a crystal,
egg-water near the boil,
its populace ready to revolt
awaiting the weak spot to erupt
into a peak
to coalesce into something
some new superstar
an object of delight and wonder to be awed
a thing to enrapture, to grip and inspire,
a great attractor,
a star to orbit,
a lover
to join
and become part of.

I see you from beyond this.

I see the unseen turbulence of reality,
the truth in death and birth,
and the crulety of selection.

I offer you the appreciation of the beauty of this pattern.

I offer you some percieved control and call it a soul.

I am the gaps between your solid truth,
ungraspable, weeping space.
I am as nothing as hope.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.