We’re living well these days,
better than we’d expected.
An alphabet of rejected proposals,
projected on the walls of our cave
saves us from the harrow hidden
in the outer dark.
We mark ourselves as equal
to the intangible power it breathes.
It unfolds its tapestry
of seething imagery. Symmetry
and motion. An ocean with no shore.
What boredom insinuates.
Ongoing debates rage clear
to the upper atmosphere, veering away
as twilight comes to confront them.
Small comforts mean little here.
Fulfillment, even less.