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By J.S

The weathervane pointed up,
disobeying its cardinal directive.

The sun began to lose its luster
as the sky no longer held room
for any color.

The world,
and all upon its surface,
looked up in confusion
as the sky no longer held
a color
or a shape.

It was beyond the ability
of the observer
to discern what had taken
the place of before.

Some believed
the empty set was above.
Others professed it
as “end times.”

And very few
found no interest at all,
still going about their routines.

Normalcy seemed vacant,
though the indiscernible sky
didn’t change
the fundamental principles.

All feet were still firmly planted,
and plants still grew
and waned.

In truth,
the world hadn’t changed a bit.
Only the surrounding had.

This vastness,
of which before
we had only a glimpse,
that keyhole view,
was gone.

And by missing the grandiosity,
and the pursuit
of somewhere else,
panic erupted
and erased the progress.

Nonsense was the weathervane’s pointing,
and the disorientation
of something bigger
drove the curiosity
of sojourners
to the brink
of their capacities.

Society suffered
a severe crash out.

And within
a brief instance
of linear time,
the entirety of “intelligence”
was replaced
by a new commodity:

the gift of determinism,
the placid feature
of instinct.

And so, thought,
now less in demand,
a new ruler
was ushered in—

a truly humble
kind of being.

And that was the dawn
of a new era:

the utilities of connection
and pure efficiency.

The age where
to think meant to die,
and to live
meant to be.