The Birth of Everything

The physical projects,
Though size is meaningless,
Making distance abstract,
Between two points,
Making speed measureless,
When position is known,
Yet position is abstract,
With speed realized.

Within this reality,
Illusion traps the soul,
As weight's oppression,
Anchors the heart,
Limiting the mind,
To observable detail,
As the heart perceives silent,
The invisible song.

Through cracks in reality,
Some notes stream fourth,
Perceived by hearts opened,
With the ears of love,
Such hearts do see,
Through mountains and rivers,
To the unbridled dance,
Of energy's fire.

Universes unfold,
As we fold space in spirit,
Never being separate,
Never seeing nothing,
The mist of time disbursed,
With time's mystery revealed,
Nothing is impossible,
As everything is born.