Entropy

If I dream of inaction …
I stand in that time before time
Where all possibility lays over
A field of bristling deep white
And all the words that are unwritten
Outreach every star ever stitched.

Sometimes, I picture in absence
All things waiting to be connected
To one continuous present
Where those not yet born 

And those who have lived

Exist together side by side.

Were I then to write of action
Would I be drawn by narrow pleasure

Into a new but diminishing realm?

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

There an interesting play of questioning philosophy at work in this one. Time, rust, dust and decay; even the mountains, in time, pass away. The stars go out,; they flicker and fade, and in the end, everything that is or was is unmade.

[Casey Truax]

A wonderful work of imagination. It is a paradox of freedom that we cannot make choices without limiting them, a paradox of entropy that we cannot create without furthering the process of destruction.

[Beano]

Thank you Casey! X

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Beano,

I feel that your poetry "connects those things that are waiting"---
the waiting is the hardest part...as Tom Petty sung...
There are still so many words unwritten, well, maybe so many ways to put them together, for sure.
Excellent write here.
j.

[Beano]

Thank you as ever Jacob!