It is as though all the world wheels,
Past while I am fixed,
A flash procession about me reels,
And I within it are mixed,
The bound between two streams,
The subject imposing difference,
Proscribing what it all means,
Defining all existence,
Upon my seat I track the moves,
And draw them into my story,
Wheels become the thundering hooves,
Of the foaming steeds that bore me,
Up upon a wayward path,
Thru brighter climes and dreams,
Fleeing from the world of wrath,
Fall thru a gap in the seams,
It is more sober in transition,
More subtle being so free,
No rebuttal will change my vision,
Nothing will shake me.
The Emergent Sea 