We fall, rather than orbit,
albeit quite motionless,
at rest in our own eyes,
but out there…

Arcs and slingshots,
perturbation, all in
the shape of parabolae

In the name of creation

Blue is the essence,
it dabs at our eyes
from without, within

Time stops on a ride
atop light beams

Light arrives everywhere, anywhere,
at the moment it begins
the journey

At rest in its own eyes,
but in here…

Chagall 2018

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