My first post

[Magus Darkmist]

A tiny marble in the hand of a god?
A boulder, unliftable by ants, flawed?
Spinning around in their chaotic course.
Whirling, a vortex, headed for the source.

It starts at the beginning, ends there too.
It's course is twisted, without a clue.
A convulsing blob, of primal matter.
Old as time, reborn in the latter.

It contains our lives, but in us it's stored.
An aesthetic work, a musician's chord.
Who is the artist, who birthed such a crux?
His work is unsigned, yet continues to flux.

Is he like Escher, staring within?
Does he even bother to watch the worlds spin?
Has he gone elsewhere, not here to be found?
Observing the threads, who's path he wound?
A grain of sand, in the eyes of a god.

                                                     -Me

[Frozen Silence]

Hey, this is still here.  Cool.  =D  Wrote this ages ago.  =)