Attention is lost to one/ yet won to many things,
Not focused on a test/ but tested many ways,
from Shrikes of dark physique/ fighting verse my physics,
to see angels hiding/ past the hide of the universe.
And behind this hidden hide/ hides the Golden spectral Hind,
a Lamb of logical aspect,/ but not what you expected,
for Logos is not syllogism,/ nor silly human legalism
(paired rather with paralogism/ and paradoxical doxology).
I.e. the cosmos wrestles/ with a restless wrathful Abba
who abdicates all severity/ for resting on the seventh
so all the cosmos rests/ while wrestling with the restless
for chaos is cacophony, yes/ but chasm is polyphony,
for the slumber is the dancing/ and the slums the dancehall.
I.e. the juxtaposed realities are there/ as fabric of a superimposed pattern,
and the pattern is of sheeps wool,/ and the whorl of black holes
is but the swimming of extremes/ at the extremities of a pool of existence
a trembling at the exit to ens.
I.e. Subatomics and subgalactics/ all atomize and sublimate
to paradox and Paraclete,/ for fleet is the feet of creation
even under our very nose.
Quantum artworks that form:/ these art not verily known
when we shine uncertain light on them,/ yet mayhaps known if lit by Fire.