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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