Dear passanger—it's never
the huge stuff
that makes
or breaks-up
and maneuvers the future;
never the big breaths,
that contract the land and
push the oceans,
that ruffle
or flatter the world's flags.
It's always the small ones—
the indissoluble:
the quiet sighs,
the delicate whispers—
the invisible stirring of
cool blue wind;
it's always
the intangible,
vague,
and unobservable
streaming of elementary particles
which, over time,
exert pressure—which ripple
and grow
and sweep and compound
to change
the flow
of the ever-
cascading universe.
No form,
no semblance
of formal
organizations;
only the ripples
themselves:
the movement
alone
dictates
the pattern.
There were never
and won't ever be any
things.
There is only
and always—agitation.
Things
don't matter—it's just you
(and millions of
billions of others
just like you)
who's out there—
imbuing alterations
with which-
ever emblems
you choose.
