part 4
Just
as
consciousness
may
become extinct
in
defining what it is,
You
may
fly through space
equally
invisible
in
the blanket of time
which
wraps
a
journey, from beginning to end.
Some
other
force
propels
you forth
where
gravity becomes an absent wind.
Suspending
in
thought and deed,
inspired
or distraught
at
the first glimpse
of
the earth you leave.
Fear
of
heights,
where
there is nowhere to fall,
with
gravity a distant memory,
a
foreign language
of
its own
going
up and down.
You
are,
after
all
an
amalgam of micro-organisms,
an
enigma of composite structure
a
pin ball
sling-shotting
home or away,
sporting
with science and adventure
Secretly
paying
homage to birth.