Insight to the enigma of
the ancient of days
unfathomed depths of oceans
you can only know them by their ways
walk on eggshells
peeking ‘round the curtains like a shut in
proper like a diplomat
while you stick your ugly mutt in
soft ice left in a scotch glass
flat and simple like a slab
hollow like a cave
a muddied stream, slow brown and drab
but at its end runs clear
spilling life into the gap
Which is never filled
but ever spanned by
the cosmic bootstrap
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