Vacuum energy, zero point energy, background energy — the unmaterial realm of pure energy — what translators sometimes call the heavenly realm — the stuff of physics and spirituality.
Beyond our current capacity to grasp in itself, we narratize and storify into conceivable hypotheses of popular understanding, albeit, mysterious belief.
Comes a time when those codified mythologies lose their luster, the audience thins, cobwebs form, faces look around in search of some new explanation of an old memory that once held interest,
And here we are.
Between tales.
Between takes.
Between traditions.
Twirling like photons and bosons around a diaphanous center that is no center at all, but, rather, a new poem seeking new poets to compose a fleeting aspiration to charm listeners into a reverie of tea sipping cookie biting ecstasy of wonder at the inspired exhalation of a winter sky frozen air crunching snow.