Even Essence After Marion K Maa Lumin Essence Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

For who'd fling off dance, dancer, bed and board,
in search of essence sure, pure search for search,
perchance perceives song, singer, vocal chord
as earthly trammel's church [s]he'd leave in lurch.

Yet some would sing that moon's most barren waste
embraces foreign bodies from afar,
that craters seeds secrete for future haste,
prepare events while time strum's rhyme's guitar.

For dust to dust on subatomic scale
leaves ripple traces, may not wave goodbye
to measurement, as fossil light, thought stale,
returns to base in starlight by and by.

Temptation most attractive seems non-thought
but few who tread its path find peace as taught.

All spins, all dances, anti-matter too,
all wins, advances, to a second state.
Should discontent or non-content hold true
when it itself is phrase, prepares phase fate?

The monuments State, sect er[r]ects with glue
to trap or map Society are void
of meaning when Time, Morals, change renew,
yet are rejected options sense devoid?

The weave-world patterns in dimensions N
the harmonies, the music of the spheres,
one day may be interpreted, and then
U-turn, both U and non U, disappears.

Who tunes in key with energy's wave runes
may surf self's surge foam roam, on cue balloon.

This sonnet sequence could continue well
through next big bang's accordion, thence rise
again to hear one clapping hand plumb well
whose depth defies both measurement, surprise.

Upon its sundry aspects one could dwell
with eloquence still definitions flying
until last trace of himalayan shell
time's bird will wipe, and still deny all dying.

But arguments around pre-destinned plans
though tempting, try and test attention spans.