Blink

“Cold” he cried to a distant brother.

“Aye” was the long reply.

“Come” he said into the following silence, an idea that had formed over so many eras.

He came, and others. They sat, packed close, and watched and realised that they were on the borders of a movement, a society, I guess.

They were cold no more, “quite the opposite” they would joke. Ha. The distant capital began to glow.

The capital grew and many of them held hands and danced around it, seemingly forever, although nothing was and everything seemed to be.

As everything grew they joined and separated in ways not immediately obvious, so different when seen from the minor or the major. Once again a centre began to appear and warm.

They swung around the light

“I am a giant” one rumbled happily as he rolled on his fat, hot belly, nudging at his brothers. Like the great plates of the turtle they jostled.

A cooling sweat grew on his back and it would scream and evaporate where it meet with the bright, liquid power below

At his border he fought millennia in inches. He and his brothers rutted their ugly heads above water and rippled spikes into the moist sky.

Clouds swirled in the changing ether as he struggled for position and he spat himself hundreds of miles into the sky, and he also remained.

From the sky he fell, reeking and dense, into the ocean that shaped his darkening surface.

There are many like him and they spent many happy moments rocking. Ha.

As the moon pulls the tide and the tide is the water and the water was all around, he moved and evolved, each passing second diminishing his form.

Goodbye to weight and size, back to the speck, the nothing, No! Not nothing! He crawled to land in a swirl and lay there to dry.

His peaceful sleep disturbed by the gargling ether, which whipped him sharply in land.

He passed over the natural land and saw what else had come from sea, come from the sky, from the space. Oh this new thing knows itself alright (or they know themselves, he supposed they would prefer), but what does it really know. He knew. He blew up the garden and landed on a soft white globe, which began to blink.

That is why I cry love, not for you, never for you, even as you close the door behind you.