When does the time come
when two corners meet
and two become one
and the whole becomes half
between the mischief of wonder
the animosity of reality
and mingle with a dash of purpose

Lines of squares
and cross points of hard wooden planks
describing every minute detail
if their meticulously mundane lives
At least things are not the same anymore
what can be said for that
like Lucky Charms swimming
in a sea of yummy milk
or the small flakes dancing
in a small glass globe
who knows what purpose they hold
other than the obvious
look beyond the pattern
into the fiber
to the basis of the rhythm

RyanDavid Burningham, 1998