The Meaning of Man

What is the real measure of man?

A puppet, a pawn in a master plan?

Fate, looming large, overbearing

Smite with hard, or gentle hand?

What do we fathom is the purpose, place

Of those so small in the great expanse?



Transient beings there stand.

With wispy souls, converge, collide

Fragile blood, flesh and bone

Some rapt in good, some evil possessed

For it is within those tiny vials,

Doth the passage of time progress



In the eternal existence of timespace

Change exists to separate from constancy

A mere shimmer in a deity’s long stare,

Twisting mass and soul, created mortals new

That exist as Innumerable flashes of life, 

Forever to alter what can and what will be



Like music cannot be without the passage of time

Shudder, quake the strands of the universe

With the subtle touches of beings sublime

Thus, one without the others cannot be real

For matter, mortal, and time, ever three

The eternal and finite unfurl in reverie…