Creans Ex Nihilo

Alone, afloat, no sight, no floor, no side,
No sense or vector, I am nullified.
I know not why I'm covered with suspense,
But I await upon an approaching tense.
I feel a warmth and wetness over me --
A sudden release to coming agony.

Reality contracts and then relaxes,
About me as my panic wanes and waxes:
The hole engulfing me, that boundless void,
A single one of numberless deployed --
Is not a static and inert dead end,
But a dynamo desiring to portend
All present, past and future things potential
And the perfect and imperfect things essential.
Around me gathers low and darkening clouds,
It seems, as though the world's embalmed in shrouds.
All ready to erupt electric thunder,
The very air prepares to rip and sunder,
The void around me and within my soul
Reverberatingly out of control.

Reality contracts and then eases
And the stormy emptiness erupts and seizes
The depths of my existence, shaking heart
And soul among the shards of my course's chart.
The time of doom has come into this blot
...my gut is tied in a knot.
All hope is squeezed from me and every aim.
I'm drained and I don't care for loss or gain.
I've sought achievement offering it to You
And I have given You, my Weal, your due.
And great it was because I would not see
No matter her appearance she was she.
I feared for my well-being so any threat
Out shone the blindness spun by a lover's net --
Her cyber beauty is as real as real
Can be outside of cyberspace in touch and feel.
Canceled now's the future, th' past forgot,
The present aimless, life is just a blot.
The Soul's dark night, a vessel void;
My own well-being thus I have destroyed.
Again I feel a squeeze, a tightening.
The world relaxes ever frightening.

Before me darker upon dark, a blot,
Canceling dark, negation of a not,
Enticed me, drew me t'wards it like a drain --
The manifestation of my anxious brain.
Within the blot appeared a pseudosphere,
Infinity with a finite frontier
That formed a saddle straight ahead of me
And Gabriel's trumpet stretched infinitely
And copied 'round the sphere's periphery --
A dreamlike, ghostly presence in the night.
Spacetime a shimmering & eerie sight,
Upon it present, past and future played:
    Event's behaved like drivers on a road:
    Each present time and place of th' driver flowed,
    Becoming and as quickly passing by;
    Receding points augmenting th' past's supply.
    And every exit being a possible goal.
    Each present time and place in th' driver's control
    Is the end of previous milestones on the commute
    And the start of choices trapped in the' highway's route.
    From Bang to Crunch the car of time proceeds:
    Upon the road the driver flows along.
    The driver, always present, passes th' world,
    The scenery cruising by, a barn in front
    And then behind, a home approaching f'ward.
    The past recalled in th' rear receding view.
    Where th' driver was is shown in present time
    Just as the driver's future's seen in front,
    In the windshield's approaching panoramic view.
    (The driver aft, the driver 'fore, have each
    A flow of time distinctly their own Now.)
    The driver sees the form of th' future f'ward
    Adjusting present vision by its bounds.
    And seeing presents past adjusts the now
    By present understanding of the past.
At a single glance all time-space could be surveyed.
Into this eternal instant I descended;
From my life's within my life's transcended.
I fell towards that egg in Sophia's womb
Transformed into a seed of cosmic bloom.

©2010, John A. Mills