random babble: the eye of the soul versus the eye of the world

a moment before

the world had an edge
and an eye like an eagle's
could contain its scope

the rounded horizon
from heights like his
only there could be appreciated
as a reiteration
of the roundness of
his cornea, the borders of
his lens:
the larger eye below seeking
to see the smaller
each invisibly struggling
to swallow its twin world.

but that was a moment ago.

now things are real.

nothing real has an edge
nothing real stays still
the world is a falling
and a tumbling, a garbled
tangle of vectors seeking
tangents, kinetic energy
seeking lost potentials.

and thus it is that the smaller eye
must succumb to the larger
eye of the world
that other eye so vast it seems flat
and seems to flatten
it pulls him in relentless
and unblinking
without even seeing
focused as it is,
in its unfocused way,
upon the limitless socket
of the sky.