The pope goes off to hidden realms
where effects like snow tumble out of unrealized dreams
that dream and think
forms of electrical energy
sending impressions over the highway of the brain
from whence to where.
his god in a far away castle
waits for his return
when did he leave? could he be so small to fit into a hat box? a shoe box
an ash box blown through deserts impeccable in stillness and night.
what thinking goes on in the brain turned ashes what thought traces through the alleyways of carbon
burnt with last impressions
electricity burnt spark fills the air with ions
flowers officiate at the ceremony of sainthood internal
though that be unperceived.
what spark burnt particle atomic simplicity thinks the last thought
the thought that counts and keeps counting like a heart beat
a thought beats back and forth in silence silenced
the final thought
hello, shall we begin?