Page 63 - Bite-size
P. 63
Nirvana means
Your flame’s blown out,
Not yet more beans
For priests grown stout.
Hourglass sand is granular,
Tree trunk growth is annular:
Though time appears be a chunk,
Logic says that view is bunk.
“What’s the fabric of time?” I asked
Those orbiting satellites tasked
To show the hour and the minute:
“We don’t weave time—we just spin it.”
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