M.M.M.M.M.

The software of the atmosphere
digitally connected to the
network of sky-scraper-sentinels;
and within the swaying breeze
our gaze travels to industrial evolutions;
I hear the music of a robot's imagination
while it innocently assembles technological tidbits.

but the folds of gray tissue still need exploration;
powerful receptors have yet to be activated,
nodes filled with capacious data yet to be discovered,
it is in the music that we know ourselves.

look in the mirror,
what do you truly see?
look as if you've never seen your visage before;
contemplate the things you've spoken,
what you've created;
you might be nothing but your eyes;

molecular machines meticulously moving mountains

[01:06|03.2.012] ©c.thomas.carter