Wafted roasted malt
cannot halt
on the dry canned path.
There are no ideas
that will not expand
beyond the boundaries
touchable by hand.
Fear not, fearful.
Your terror could
expand to reach
every corner
of this cosmic
sphere.
For beginnings,
reassure of endings.
For endings,
let them be
where they are.
Under pressure,
imagine the situation
flipped.
Each notion arises
as a motion
whose capture flies beyond
the capacity of any human speck.
Peck at the grains
of blue and transparent
intermittency,
here in friendly robin
February.
Roman Ryan 