automatronic aural spectral lyrical: GO

Look at your hand there held before you in pre-dawn blue shadows levitating over faces past, faces gone not dead just ineffable as all the past must always be barring your quantum soul, which you can't exactly know. But as you lie in bed and weep a bit in your swirling thoughts and emotions you may choose: swirling pathos or greed and need; maybe not. How about glory. Don't deny it. You want it, you buy it. There you go, spectral, passing, shifting like the brilliant X-ray shadows of clouds, vehicles of air, blueprints for earthy blood and meat and gristle. Passing through Luna's light in the electrophotoscopic night, black grey and white. Our ancesters knew the meaning of metaphysical. Channel five thousand years ago, imagine what the colors must have been like, how resplendent, how clear, imagine the cool kiss of the virgin air, imagine the sunlight, and pure dew of night, and imagine the lightning of the soul, whatever you want, you can take it, look up, yearn, want, never wane, not yet wither and stop with dithering restless, can't you see that what you can't taste or see but what you sense is your hands in the skein drawing the threads, binding the strings and twining them into the rope, into the hope that is your lifeline, your heartline, your way up, your destiny?