Matrix Of Projections Poem by Ayni Poet

In the beginning it was Silence,
No lexicon or quantic dust,
"I" and perception were about to break,
As a sun lifting from beneath horizons.

Fractals of noise started to take shapes,
Creating directions where there were none,
Following a self-will,
Untamed, unrestricted
Drawing a world in colors and sinusoids
As an artist out of play.

Soon,
Bodies, oceans, forests and supernovas
Were all dancing, together
In a festival that easily one can enjoy,
But just as easily, one can be fooled.

Covered by noise,
Men elude to find the substratum,
Enticed by mere projections,
Overlooking a great Empty Silence,
The mother of ten thousand things,
That patient, benevolent space
Which suddenly
Awakens to itself,
Eclipsing the matrix.