Like a weary bushfire knows not how to stop
Striding to see, if there be fuel in the sea
A bat freelancing in a calm desert
So also, the unending moderation.
Subconscious insatiable desire for satisfaction
Pushed even by idleness to be more, but death
With ignorance and knowledge man works and stops
Seldom sealing satisfaction, as a short night flees
He shouts with thoughts, “one again – another one”
Consciously finds one, unconsciously seeking its end still, life at the mercy of life
Even in division of halves, and multiples of ones – with caution
Scarcely knowing what to subtract, surely some space in store
Jumping time or pushed by its gun
Is this a praise to one, or man
That changes nothing
Still changing everything
There’s a constant coup
Not just about change
But liveliness, progress or not
Warring to calm concerned souls
Permeating contexts and dimensions
Blending colours and numbers
Changing and finding places
Another friend, even a slave
A new teacher, maybe an enemy
But for us, what want shall there be
Excwpt that which has never been
Only the work of sleep shall halt
Now, shall wake to continue
Walking to all and time
But will be fool
To work-on time
That is never changing
For in this wise
A friend that has never left us
And when humanity’s story end
What shall be sought again
