The Glass Engine

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We are churning so slowly.

We are burning so bright.

We are inconstant and holy.

We are Day and Night.



It is pulsing inside.

It is silently clear.

It cannot be defied.

It does not try to hear.



There are pumps that are pressing.

There are sparks that are sent.

There are sides that are stressing.

There are thoughts that are bent.



We live within it.

We make it real.

We didn’t begin it.

We can only reveal.



It thinks of our thoughts.

It looks in itself.

It can be trained and taught.

It is greater than wealth.



So weak yet so strong.

So dark yet so clear.

So right and so wrong.

So Now and so Here.



A star in the sky

A signal is born.

A blink of the eye

A thought is adorned.



No cracks on the side

No loss in speed.

No thought has died

No thought won’t be freed.



It churns every day.

It walks every mile.

It finds its own way.

It won’t frown or smile.


It is our master.
It is our slave.

It keeps out disaster.

It lets us be brave.



The glass engine turns.

The glass engine grinds.

The glass engine burns.

The glass engine is our minds.