June 9

Given; for a moment, an infinite creator,
Geppetto in his workshop installing censors,
deciding which I/O and which processor.

What minuscule tools you have given
for us to unwind your creation,
reverse engineer ourselves from our innards.

Given; not an object, but a process,
star matter and time twisting in a helix,
in unending revision improving forever.

What purpose for us then, we aware
for this moment, passing in frail bodies
in some middle place along pointless creation.

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Author:

A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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