Bound

Bear with me - this is a 6 AM post...

The world is bound. Everything bound in silken threads... invisible threads, but threads indeed.

Theories bound by the universe they describe. Lives bound by templates and goals inconsequential, ephemeral to all but the living that see. Perceptions bound by the frames they inhabit. Fates bound by precedence, and impossibilities.

Paradoxes bound by reason and reality - realities bound by paradoxes inherent. Wisdom bound by language and language by people. People bound by language or wisdom or thought...

Boundaries bound by imagination, or chance.

And then the folly of coveting the boundless. The folly of believing its ascendancy. Do they never see the value of the binding? Do you not see the binding paradox?

The binding you moan of is binding from chaos. The binding of purpose and of sanity. The ultimate binding must be boundlessness indeed. The naked vaccum that needs filling with will.

Is your will wilful enough to be willing? Will you be able to be able and will?

Do I dare abandon the bounds of my song now? Is a boundless voice any more than a scream?