Waves of Reality

Bring your lofty thinker’s chair
And set it by the beach just there
Then like Canute command the tide
And tell the ocean: still abide
Confine the real things observed
To static frames of form or word
Then map it all by math and shape
And point to point the whole relate
‘Til all that’s left is points and space
Then look again and note the pace
By which the real you sought to chart
With neat ideas and measured art
Drives on, advancing up the beach
Revising all within its reach
Deleting this and shifting that
Each wave a new creative act
The ideal world within your mind
At best is one we’ve left behind
For time and tide must never end
As every dusk new dawn portends
Whilst every second ticked is gone
Yet ever more the clock ticks on
Decay is all around perceived
And yet in death is life conceived –
And change, it seems, can never end
– Or how to set it off again?

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