All of these descriptions and colors
placed in verse before sunset must hurry
themselves like songbird feathers; dark and damp
cold are bushes for a thousand small sparrows
flit upon the surface of space-time like thinnest ice crusts
covering puddles like things waiting
for ice to increase and water to decrease
for the crunchy snow to stop and embrace silence
forever waits to return to the ears of deer munching moss
in the copse and over the hills the deer awoke and moved
listening to footsteps crunch on, it drifted away
to run startled at the intrusion into the noumenal
for-itself of food, energy, nerveless spindly legs unfrozen
while trees of the forest grew faster than mountains
places of mass, energy and space-time were drawn unto Earth
gravity drew even gas giant planets of methane to orbits
warmed in sunlight's photons and gravity's friction
so these words were written as the Earth turned away
with farther spin drifting another year
intelligence of the Universe expands with complex entropy
formations like googles of imperfect snowflakes
returning in broken forms to the One.
A comment about this poem...
Regard the entire Universe viewed through Plato's 'The Republic'; certainly an original unified field was broken into forms that are imperfect eventually- less than whatever the One initially determined- all the perfect forms may be in the mind of God necessarily as non-temporal things-in-themselves. A shift between ideas outside of time and thermodynamics probably occurs that renders temporal 'objects' broken in comparison to non-temporal ideas of them.
