The Persistence of Illusions

Does every moment in time already exist?

Can an eager eye spy all of space

Before us as the distant void it is?

I walk with illusory sight at a pace  

Through a world I think is yet to be.

This same eye in succession blinks

And the world unfolds itself fragmentarily.

With blinking rapidity the eye it thinks

Time and space are bits of demarcated frames

Like reels in mechanical rewinding,

Not seeing each and every moment as the same,

One swell, a universal expanding.

I am in the world like my sight is in

My eye.  And it is the other “I” that inclines

To conceive himself the creator within,
The prime mover that birth the signs

And wonders and every thought that

Arises. There is in turn felt a “me” within

Spied by an inner eye, a searcher enrapt,

Not creator, but hunter for a ‘him.”

Thinker and thought, time and space are same.
And like the light upon the water that gleans,

So dance many lively charges atop the brain,

Sparking persistence of things that seemingly seem.