The first billion years went by in the flash of an opening eye,
no history, no legend, no myth.
Countless ages never measured, nothing to measure with.
Billions, billions, came and went,
no question, just action, increasing time and space,
so many burning marbles spun out onto a clear glass table,
no wonderment, no human race.
Then there was call for reason,
as a matter of fact, call for rhyme.
Impossible questions to answer
ordered to hand in on time.
Yes, we will make a mark,
readable in millenniums to come,
as a solitary flower, in a desert space, wondering where it was from.
We have ideas, we feel important,
the things that seperate us, we know, we think . . .
Thirteen billion years later,
we are quite A Blink.
W. C. Wampler
[ Last Word, Refocused, Everything + Nothing, Listening To Hot Lovers, A Blink, Timeless Writ ]