There is nothing real

There is nothing real

Below the sky

Nothing corporeal

Above it

Things can be

In two places at once

Even though all it takes

Is one big bang

To trigger

An unstoppable

Momentum

Still gathering pace

Unto its ending

However unlikely

A story maybe

Its strength lies

In the conviction

Of its retelling

When latent meanings

Leave room enough

For interpretation

Believers

Fall in line

With a dominant

Narrative

Storytellers are gifted

With second sight

Enabling reauthoring

Even as the tale

Is still being spun

What was once begun

Can come to an end

As time is turned

Inside out

And what once was past

Is returned

To face the future

An uncertain observer

Without a cause

A stranger

To oneself

Struggling to understand

The truth of meaning

When there may be

None

Not even a smidgen

After all.