I don’t know if this is going to be a poem or article. Maybe both. I’m trying to grasp the infinite abundance of our world, our universe.
Count the pine needles I thought of that line as I walked through the woods, looking at the yellow blanket of pine needles on the trail and under the trees. Imagine trying to count them. It made me think about the line where measurements blur into the infinite. Look to infinity Relentless abundance You are standing in it Walking on it Throbbing with it Infinity is the disappearing importance of measurement Of rulers Of defining numerals Measure me out a teaspoon of thyme. But make me the same teaspoon twice With the exact number of grains each time.
I feel like I’m capturing something that I have been after a long time. These are elusive thoughts, though, and it takes time to refine them.