Ghosts of departed quantities

There is a careless thought regardless of our minds
Living on the boundaries of what’s assumed outlandish
Though when attention is concerned the reason is arising
Through the window of reference the world materializing
Soaring from the ice a dream of waking mountains
Melting sheets of nudity when the sun is rising
Rushing eyes on blind spots of particles comprising
Strange as it is to live apart from all experience
While we think of rivers the rivers flow inside us
By the stream of consciousness grows a lotus flower
Does it really exist when we just stand oblivious
Inside our cautious trap the pray of time is hiding
Let’s take a look again by changing our arguments
There is so vast a prison including the horizon
Countless opportunities escaping from our heads.

11/4/2010

Title: George Berkley, The Analyst.