(In)Voluntary

Opposites merge, polarities intertwine,
The Universe stands on its head, and
beckons, waiting, smiling. Knowingly.

A ripple, a wave, a mere spec in the
cosmos, yet what is the ocean
Without drops of water? What are the
mountains without specks of dust, plains without
blades of grass?

And the gods laugh, make us slaves to divine whim,
as we, the progeny of titans, ancient stars
that flared incandescent, feel belittled.

We walk bound, donning straitjackets to save
ourselves from the cold,
Rather than embrace the fiery warmth of
Knowledge, of wisdom, of reason.

Our shade-influenced image of truth,
Neutered of all reality, filtered blank of
Existence, for ours is all we consider.