The instant I word it, its expanse stills. It’s a little creature, with a leg and
a mouth and no sound, pacing the mind. The moment I put a shape on its infinity, it becomes bounded…still penetrable though. If I inked it whole, filled its every white with black I couldn’t lid it still. There is no space that contains its end. Should form evolve infinitesimally, one might continue without end into its changing depths and devolutions, yet never put an arm around it. So, forests become fractals and butterflies cause seasons.
The words wonder and wander are somewhere related.
What a concept, who thought Space!!! Inner or Mappable, how thought up distance…. . conceived enclosures.
Well, Land was always spread as mountain, plain…and sea bed….how did knowing feel the wet as differently paced than the dry? It could have all just been, as Universe it is. But we like to put the black upon white to then define how the back (compared to the front) lays in recess, or suddenly the black leaps to make talk with eyes. (like on a page)
Sound, an experience closest in nature to faith. You hear it, but how do you know it? How without dimensions it is! And beyond anything tactile. That it stretches, that it turns curves or flares red! Or hurts or pleases…. Flat on a page it claims no space.
All of reality offers texture, unique volumes, the entire experience of what exists, or what there may be….or not…. is magically laid as much in the recesses and cognitions of mental space. I suppose then, its not a very big leap into faith. We navigate just such areas, between our sleeping and rising everyday.
When we put our foot on the ground and call it solid, we define and agree to name an outer space and comprise it with a density that differs in volume, intensities and temperature from what we believe is our invisible space. |
|