It treads the Line of Infinity
Carrying on Its back
Its Kit of First Creation
In its own special sack
As It passes and by passes
Through and around and between
Each dimension's dimension
In that ever changing constant scene.
And It sows the seeds of growth
On Its forays to left and right
So they sparkle and they twinkle
In the blackness of blackest nights
And Its Kit of First Creation
Lays its protective shield
To ward the budding growth
Until its projected first full yield
And It treads the Line of Infinity
And only It truly knows
The hoped for hope of hope
As It prunes and weeds and hoes
And It is ruthless in Its stewardship
Choosing only the very perfect best
Returning to Its kit of First Creation
That rejected and disassembled rest
It treads that Line of Infinity
Steadily flowing on and on
Filling those vacant spaces
Of the rejected and the gone
Endlessly endlessly following
Infinity's random and wandering track
Constantly emptying and refilling from
Kit of First Creation carried on Its back
