Hi to everybody...found this poem I wrote a year ago and seems to fit with today...

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Creator of worlds.

Time slips away dreamlike into the past
Lost forever moments of consciousness
Making things real that would not exist
Without an act of will to make solid
Something that was but an idea floating
In the netherworld of possible potential
And suddenly is real inside your mind
While outside of it the thing is born
The moment a self beholds the object
And, in observing, fixes it forever
The dance of life in space and time
Endlessly moving in a continuum
Until the end draws nigh and what
Was once a world ceases in the final
Beat of a heart and the last drawn breath
Of a self that came, and saw, and conquered
The odds of ever being born, triumphant
Birth, creator of worlds, lay down now
And rest, your work is done, time to return
The sum of your parts to the cosmic womb
For another life to be born, another world
To be formed, and so it goes on and on and on.

***

Great big hugs to one and all...