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My Cosmic Soup

How many billions of stars are there in the universe?  How many grains of sand in the dessert?  How many facets in a cavern of crystals?  How many ways to perceive it all?

The answer is not static.  Stars die and are born.  Sands shift, bind, melt into glass. Crystals grow, are mined and cut.  Vantage points and paradigms shift.

My brain flows like some cosmic soup.  A perpetual stew, endlessly being drawn on and added to.  Never drying the pot.  Never quite sure what the next mouthful will be.

This morning, I have stirred up a pile that had settled at the bottom.  I haven’t had my ladle in there deep enough for some time.  Subsequently, the surface has diluted and attempts to freshen it have mixed in some conflicting flavours.

So, today, I aim to strain and separate my broth, sort out my ingredients and find a way to keep each pot simmering without further cross-contamination.

*Image created by Barry Carleton

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