Mine and Not Mine

In the world that is made there’s poetry and me; in the world there’s everything, and everything is mine and not mine. I am everything and again only the one responsible for everything- willing to move in an orbit other than mine yet in the not mine no movement is unmade. As in everything there’s never rest- up close microscopics shimmer while distant things repose seeming still and separate as all still and separate things. Yet there is movement and in movement cohesion repairs the unity as all still and separate things become the world again. Everything happens in the world happens here at last, and in the world that is made there is poetry and me. In the world there is everything and everything is mine and not mine.