Entangled

In the beginning
Science was philosophy
Philosophy was poetry
and Poetry
has always been intimacy
inspiring, beguiling, divining,
conjoining
motion with emotion
imagination through sensation
realization from creation,
rejuvenation to transformation
throughout the radiating field
of waving quantum energy
arises true identity
and effortless infinity

In this incomprehensible
continuum of consciousness
Ambiguity, Paradox, Irony
are prismatic mirrors
bending the light of dancing photons
fashioning elaborate and seductive illusions
teasing, but concealing the real

There is no spooky action at a distance, Albert,
we are all entangled
and real life, as we know it, is, in a word,
Unreal, as
the self-affirming identity of contradictions
the native simplicity of ultimate complexity
the timeless, deliberate order of random chaos
Everywhere-
intimations of coordinated cosmic intelligence

Heraclitus was nearly correct
about the contours of Nature
the scaffolding of Time
You cannot step into the same river
even once
it is, as we are,
all
perfectly imperfect
impermanent
implicit, All
impulse and momentum
in a state of constant
change, of Becoming
synchronistically
intrinsically
inextricably
connected
in the spontaneous
self-sustaining nature of the whole
in which

Being

eternally self-replicates itself
in novel recursions
into the harmonic splendor
of a singular, infinite noun.