What Is It Part Vi
What Is It Part VI
In dementia we only the past lies clear.
What was is reachable; what is, is ghostly.
We see the universe the same way,
Its great shimmering cloud spreads so far over space and time
We see everything as it was, not as it is;
Most of it exists for the motes in the far long ago.
So if this so diffuse, so ephemeral cloud
Has thoughts born of the lightning flashes
Going off in the countless tiny motes within it,
Separated by great gulfs of time and space,
What manner of thoughts can they be?
Does it spend eternity wondering What It Is?
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