The Carnival Poem by Richard Randolph

There are no immovable objects,
nor are there unstoppable forces,
but there are objects we can't move,
and forces we can't stop,
and questions we can't answer,
so purpose becomes the paradox.
My mind contains all of the world,
and my thoughts and feelings, too,
but to say the world contains us
is at least equally as true.
Blake saw the world in a grain of sand
and eternity in an hour,
but time itself is an illusion
without meaning or power.
The world is like a carousel,
the horses go round and round,
but there are no real beginnings or endings
until they close the carnival down.