The idea you can't think about,
Resides just under the surface of a bubbling cauldron.
The elephant in the room is a reflective shapeshifter.
The mind is a cup and takes the form
Of the primordial soup of creation inside.
The universe expands and so do we.
The space between these molecules becomes wider,
An advancing spiral resides on the tip of a pen.
The size of an error in the rules of grammar.
Waves of dimensions pull through dimensions of waves.
So the senses we're aware of turn on each other,
A new reality is born.
The old rules are insufficient for this New Age.
Our Age.
The Age of the people.
Life is the responsibility of those that live.
Not a commodity, burden, something to trade.
You sit on a rock flying through space,
Bartering your lives with others that do the same.
How ridiculous does that sound?
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