Out of the millions

and millions and millions,

this one, this potential exists:

mystery of the universe

encompassed in a cell,

a tiny beginning

To slam the door, to become a god

of shall or shall not….

decision sways like the sword of Damocles.

To think on this must give pause

(no matter the reason)….

a different course far from Hamlet’s—

self-impaled upon his own dilemma

 

Not quite the same

That time in dispute,

that exact moment, a beginning

too remote to fathom

Potential conceived in infinity

beyond our ken

Nevertheless, a constant:

the irrefutable potential

haunting the depths of mind and soul

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