The spark of a thought is an arc
out into slingshot space,
gravitational accelerants,
spectacular as stars
whose evanescence
lit fixities for cartographers,
though nothing’s solid
but we think it so.
Relatively speaking,
we turn out to be no more
nor less than this
quintessence,
each one of us passing through
states of wave-particles,
unpatented, subject to –
and of – a vast
unmappable terrain
where thought projects,
no longer just bending minds,
but bending space and time.
