Minkowski Space

When the past is hurled
Towards a future that is is muddled
And when the present is simply
Yet to start taking place
Life is nothing
But a bunch of coordinates
In a four dimensional
Minkowski space

When silence is golden
When music is molten
When voices drift out of old
Memories are nothing
But random points
In the continuum
Of space time
Fourfold

When vision is trained
On a goal unseen
When the heart is trained
On a future
Evergreen
Olden and new
Numerous and few
Qualities are strewn
A string of possibilities
In a theoretical space


©anna_grace