abstract of imagination
-Memories like fallen ash, fade the ideas we create of the life we lived. Nothing is real, every illusion an abstraction. Some creation of the imagination. Every point is then a momentof genesis. Life in its many colored panes represents nothing that is fixed. Everything. Waking, each, until there is no more consciousnessis the genesis of breath and life; memoryis where the imagination plays, and revisions visions. Propounding wandering of wonderings,as the dust, like fallen ash, dances in the wakingbreath of creation, imagination and abstraction.