[The following measurement of infinity has been kindly shared with us by Happy Cow's good friend Simon Drew. When he is not busy feasting his eyes, Simon can be found banqueting his nose, all-you-can-eat buffeting his ears, hearty fried breakfasting his fingertips and running the online groups English Stuff and H.A.T.S.T.A.N.D.(O.N.). If you were immeasurably moved by Simon's poem, why not show your appreciation by clicking on the 'Like' button at the bottom below. Enjoy!]
Within a few millimetres, a thousand lines were written. In breaths between cobblestones, the light of the rising sun congealed. And words continued without the stamp of the seal. Searching, walking, a footstep in the dark. And a thigh revealed from behind curtains. The rain fell. A smile in a ribbon of darkness. The birth of light in the retina. A chemical reaction. A chemically induced electrical impulse. The flows of ions. Reception. Creation.
Overhead, in another universe, floating in the sky. On the wing. Scanning. A movement. A burst of desire, and the descent. Talons extended. From the dusty earth extracted. Chains of potential energy. Warm entropy dissolving into today's order. Assimilation. Though none of that bundled heat is wasted on names. No. Other chains will be gathered until these chains once more sink into the earth.
Soft oxidization. The hue upon the pines. Waking into the afternoon, the hills are snoring up little whirlwinds. Dancing. From small to large. Waves and whirlpools. Keep going and it resets to the original. Always. The dance of ants. The fluttering of wings and then resting on the bough. A wind blows little flags with no country. Each grain of sand in the desert, out there, is a watching eye.
The calls cannot be translated. They just are. Coming, going, watching. A few moments together and then gone. A slight shifting, rocking on the point of balance. And then, that shape too is gone. In another direction. Some heart beats are longer than others. Water can be as hard as bricks.
A lot of time can be occupied with reading mirrors. In the wet earth live snakes and worms. And every word above the horizon, has its dream below. Creation is simple. It's simple as much as saying it. Reciting spells. These brief wizards. The sneeze of a star. Words of ice send the ticking arms into stasis. A small candle is an offence. Left in the window while the sun is still shining. Transforming from one to one to one. A little paint here. There two fingers. Here one.
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