Turn To Thee

The thinker of the essence of thoughts;

such a meta aspect of nature.

The dreamer of dreams,

The writer of stories,

The love for all that loves.

We are but specs of dust,

In the most transcendental story ever written;

Simultaneously. 

Superposition of acts of self.

I am the wave function of all.

I experience the environments and thoughts.

I am amongst you, yet I am but the farthest thing from you.

My destiny, glaring at me.

My truths, daring to be redefined.

My certainty, linked to the Earth that bears us,

To the moon that guards our sleep,

To the stars that watch our development.

 

If I bring about my existence onto your world,

Your world is sure to reconfigure.

I am not my truth but rather the fact that conceived it.

Yet, conceiving itself makes us as fundamental as truth.

Who am I, when there is no one to hide from?

Who are you, after you have processed what I am?

Where will your certainty fall, if it is not in love?