Trees and streams,
That dream of a house nearby.
Whistling woods and singing fauna,
That dream of a secret life, somehow.
Silenced echoes from the city
Intermingle to be a Reminiscence
As we prepare to at last answer
What life is ?
All that it is ? All that it could be.
Yes we are here.
Why is it so hard to reconcile events which have lead us here ?
After all it is us in a world not made for us.
Yes we are here and ‘now’ is the apocalypse for desires.
When this exponentially multiplying spoked wheel stops.
It will show herself
Behind the veil of maya, a field of unperceived consciousness.
For mass was always energy
Matter the lowest cosmic pedigree
Speed of light, being and existence.
Where have we come ? Together my brothers and sisters.