Monday, May 14, 2007

Salvation of the Collapsing Universe

Waves of frequencies
Beating with the heat
Of creation and
Billions of years
Spin in neat
Balanced Gravitation,
Warm your hands
In the furnace of
But did you know the
Perfection of the universe
Can be
Complex paradigms
Doppler shifting
Dark matter pulling,
Never seen.
D      r      a      w      i      n      g
D    r    a    w    i    n    g
D r a w i n g

You are about
To be


Verilion said...

Ooh I very much enjoyed this. Last week's supernova was amazing wasn't it. Glad it inspired you to write this. Can spot your science interest in this too. I love the last stanza as well, so hopeful.

Terri said...

Oh wow, this is great - it flows beautifully.

Jaye Wells said...

Nice, Jason. Glad you're back!

mermaid said...

I'm not sure why, but there seems to be a paradigm struggle between spirituality and science here. It's as if two conflicting beings are wrestling with each other, and regardless of who wins, the answer is the same.

We are reborn.

Your poetic investigation of the Universe is astounding, again.

Anonymous said...

i think that's what so great about life, tha we can stat over, in a sense be reborn, many times. it's all in our hands.

Canterbury Soul said...

if life is so predictable, then i think personally it's not quite worth living for.

paradigm shifts, changes, chances to be reborn...make life so exciting.

this is yet another fabulous example of poetry.

thanks, Jason!

Anonymous said...

Verilion, I am more hopeful now than I've been in many, many years.

Terri, thanks, my friend.

Jaye, it feels nice to be back.

Mermaid, much appreciated, as always. In thinking about the theme here, it struck me that we can travel far down a path, getting more and more complex and convoluted along the way as we try to build fabulous palaces of understanding. Finally, a time comes when the structure threatens to fall under its own weight. We return to the moment of birth and nakeness to start anew.

Kate, so very true. It's always in our hands.

Canterbury Soul, yes, I agree. The staleness and imprisoning constructs become like a disease. The greatest unheaval and discomfort is required to sweep them away, but it is infinitely worth it.

Miranda said...

The labor of birth is so quickly forgotten. The labor of rebirth will sustain us.

KG said...

The visual structure of the poem, and the "Shhh", worked well to make this experience you describe quite real to me.

billie said...

This feels like the second movement to the recent poem you posted - the one ending with "My hands don't know what to touch."

A cycle poem. :)

Anonymous said...

Miranda, such a sense of hope from someone who knows the truest meaning of the word. If birth is the emergence of consciousness from silence, perhaps rebirth is the emergence of wisdom from consciousness.

KG, thanks! I really wanted that feel to come through.

Billie, I also thought of the two poems as linked. Here, the picture shows the moment after. It's the moment the singularity, like the big bang, explodes.

Sonya said...

Jason, your words have a tendency to leave me speechless (in a good way). This is fantastic.

angel said...

thats beautiful! every end is a beginning eh?

Anonymous said...

Thanks Sonya and Angel!!