Verdant

“Nocturne in Black and Gold — The Falling Rocket” by James Abbott McNeill Whistler (licensed under CC)

Without a shell, without a cause,
Jaunting around the bend, beyond the elemental reach.
This is the voyage of thought.
A fraction of time elapses into a language,
Rendered obsolete.
This mysterious floating foliage,
Verdant and whole:
Reversing its half-life into sprouting.

The mind, as it seems, is
A fraction of something grander we take part in;
And we are the font of its magic.