the experiment

not my mind, this experiment
not my thoughts but heaven sent
trials to recreate a past
tools available at last
the world not here beneath our feet
no chance the makers thus to meet

i see the world but through their eyes
fictitious reality from the skies
events recycling, histories now
but only ones that they allow
and each time we explore or hope
it seems our wits just cannot cope

so what expect in this our land
when all around could turn to sand
our time to come is their time gone
could we rejoin and be as one
or will this research end as we
cease to exist, could never be

©2005 Hey Hey

Deep, satisfying journey into the intertwining of mind/thought/spirit ... and in response I would add ... possibly

And that ambiguity/uncertainty in life is what makes it so acute each minute, as we never know which will be the last, or whether there is, or is not, something more. Given that, we choose how we want to live or perhaps at the end regret that we did not choose as actively as we could have, in retrospect.

Thanks for your poem, I really enjoyed it.

and thanks for your comments, i really enjoyed them