The seeker, the sought, the slumbering god

Inertia, the rival of universal energy,

Is come to bed upon time's beach

Like fragments of a shipwreck...sun-bleached and dry.

Of such souls whose life is sapped to the dregs,

Whose candle is burned out,

Whose loss of purpose leaves only boredom.

 

Inertia is sedate, numb to all as though anesthetized

By repeated blunt-force trauma to the natural psyche,

A sleep of grand wonder

While the spirit's neurons flurry in dreams and night visions.

 

The body finds rest

The mind bobs upon ethereal seas

Until lightning strikes the heart like a defibrillator 

As some beauty of eye or being pokes the mass of stone

And restores animation to that which was living death...

Creating from the core of imagination life in myriads of manifestations,

Which grow weary of the matter, turn off the lights, and go to bed on time's beach.