Self-Aware Stardust Programmed To Aspire but Not Finish

Like a flickering candle in the solar wind of a dying star the terms are created.
However, caught in the ice of time the candle appears steady, radiating peacefully the false hope of eternal abundance.
A flame is frozen peacefully from the storm by the coolness of a universe ticking slowly from one consequence to another.
Billions of lives shoot up in this fire, self-important and noisy, achieving and striving but eating itself in absence.

How did it come to be, this paradox of life, of star dust cooled and warmed again and animated?
A promise of infinite possibility at the edge of the galactic machinery of dying flashes.
How is this moment possibly different from another? How has this space become different from the other?
Newton’s clockwork logic broken, upon the grey noise of the smaller machines it dashes.

The universe if from a single point blown up should be the same at every point.
Even logic suggests that the laws here must be the same as the laws over there.
For our sanity we need to encompass this with our finite minds.
Or nothing will ever make sense and intelligence be impossible to bear.

The strangeness of the apparently simple, fall hopelessly unsolved in my mind.
One – Two – Three – What can ever be simpler than that.
But their connections and concepts increase needing formidable formula.
Show that some unlimited knowledge is still to be understood.

Trying to reach for the stars seems now to be a short walk in the park.
The need is now for proper goals and lifting one leg at least from the sofa of Earth.
To stop beating and eating those things that in cold starlight seem so barbaric.
Reaching out to the highest ideals, the structure and beauty of what gave us birth.

The three dimensions and their ugly and overactive half-sister seem to give comfort.
Added together they all wonderfully hold together in a simple paradox, elementally arithmetical.
Displaying untold complexity and requiring formula of iterative labour pains.
It becomes visible, by just by a little turn, a rotation in space, delivering the irrational.

One spark has so many places in the universe to see, so many experiences to do.
But it is ghosted within its machine by the incomprehensible addition of mistakes.
As with many sparks, it has so much to learn, so much to understand and so many to help.
It appears the breakdown of its program holding it, doesn’t have the longevity it takes.

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