The Speed of Thought
The speed of thought, they say, is swift,
but this, I think, is mostly false.
As giving only ends in gift,
so thinking only ends in all.
Through epochs, eons, ages slow,
unfinished yet our thought has been,
an ice-sea glacier's icy flow;
and unforeseen is thinking's end
as every mind by love begot
has moved but centimeter's pace,
no one completing any thought,
remaindered to some other day.
The circles filled with stars are vast;
their orbits slowly turn in place;
thus we must share our thoughts to last
and time itself in circles chase.
And when completed is our run,
we leave our thinking incomplete,
a task continued, never done,
like turtles racing swifter feet.
