Subnet of directionless,
well-ordered state of being,
when chaos swelling deeply
through the reflux of all mind,
comes again within these
singing winds of all untime.

For the directory of mind
is being altered endlessly;
branching out within a net
of endless underground activity,
where spirits dwell and future
swells its way into the light of day.

Sun rising and then setting endlessly
in moments so entirely without compare
that the moon must show itself again,
pretending its reflection says it all.
Commanding then, the rise and fall
of every great emotion.

Idealistically, it finds its quarters
cyclically repeating nature’s theme
of spiraling in and through
dimensions that keep growing
adding yet one more unknowing
realm of exploration.

As the power of creation speaks,
extolling time and space to be,
while in its tone of utterance,
all worlds come alive
here within its spoken inconsistency;
rhyming without reason,
cycling these seasons endlessly.

While in the dead of icy cold
a sense of warmth beholds itself
embellishing those seeds still seeking spring;
and so we sense, in innocence,
the turning of the tides of life,
swelling in emotional and dire understanding.

As a subnet of directionless,
finds its way again,
into well-ordered states of being.
And chaos, swelling deeply
through the reflux of all mind
comes again within these
singing winds of all untime . . .

? Michaelette ?