The world, in a sense, proves itself, as it
appears: we are inured to its tacit
predictability, space and time
provide the overview, define the limit.
Yet, it’s extraordinary how within it
the unpredictable indefinite
makes its appearance, a thing of the mind
that would have all things made present in it.
Existence is but a single unit
in process, it holds galaxy and planet,
the nitty-gritty, from base to sublime,
yielding the inanimate, and animate.
Thus, everything occurs and is as it
could not otherwise be, an exhibit
of providence; while we creatures of time
imagine, foresee, think to control it.