The universe conspired to organize
the imponderably improbable combination
of forces, particles, waves, what else
to produce this self, this me.
Bringing forth the unlikeliest of things
is but child’s play
for the agent infinite.
The aggregation of forces, particles, all else
constantly replaced, reconstituted
still retains
the persisting identity
magically aware of itself
The Self
Secure in knowledge that the self-aware thing
transcends
after entropy prevails as well
and the aggregation disperses in ashes and dust
the self-consciousness knows
it is indestructible and more fundamental
than the universe itself
the self, this self, my self.
