Toolsmen

The spider crawls onward on its mission,
Building a stable future, guarding existence
With insurance policies, investing in funds,

Weaving its web, yarn by spat out yarn,
Designing life with hard-earned cash,

Using the chemistry and physics available

To its lithe and agile physique and mind,
Tanking up on fibre and gluten-free flies
Whipping up protein shakes for strength,

Beat after beat, fueling its existence,
Pumping out gas to keep life rolling, yet

Yearning not for the finite, but for an infinite 

Merely visible from this blot called a lifetime.

We're born now - we're living!
On our journey from crest to trough
To crest again, spiraling onward

Towards a nothingness so absolute,
It has neither inside not out;
A forest you can keep going into -
Way beyond halfway, all the way.

Encompassing everything including us, 

Present to witness this glorious hour and beyond;

In darkness yesterday and perhaps tomorrow;
Yet in light again today, at this moment;

With our roles within these square inches -
Boxes in this infinitessimosecond of spacetime!

Climbing mountains for a while,
Pushed up by the time behind us,
Curving up with chutzpah, until,
Dizzying up at the crest,  breathing in
The vast expanse to the best that we can see;

We roll downwards for the rest of the ride,
Applying the brakes on time to come; does it resist us?
That time that takes us forward, to those waking up;
Ahead of us; true happiness moving in a circle;

For hills and valleys complement the plains; 

Alive, flowing, pushing the ups and downs.

"Do not despair, for one of them was saved"!
We can choose to choose that other guy too

And these things may not always make sense

But when the goal is kind and the will untiring

The wheel does find a way.

There are unavoidable expenses of course,
Overheads sometimes tragic & heart-breaking

Unfortunate collateral in the bang that sprang
From the groins of this universe that joins
The thighs of the infinite to the infinitessimal

A one-time investment for many lifetimes,
A squirt racing up a dizzying cove
Trying to outrun everyone around you
So you can find a way to the other side,
So the wheel of time can meet its fate and

The thoughts and dreams that were once you
Can find a way ahead through brains or bytes,
Or be placed in dusty medieval libraries,
where old, tattered books lie, much like us -

Retired; watching the forces romancing
With tasks more beautiful than ours.

Yet sometimes we wait and sometimes we act
In haste, in our scramble towards transcendence, 

Mindless of the march of evolution - at the top
Of the foodchain, at the top of the garbage pile,
High as a mound -  vultures and eagles hovering
Around in search of rodents or rotten pieces
Of carcass, or beef or mutton or dog meat;

This progress made possible by the infinite, 

Seemingly inconsequential fluctuations in Time
That we call time - the time that we try to can
In bottles measured in hours, days or minutes -
Hardly a flicker in the furnace of the eternal love
That bakes a billion claymen, and the soft caress
Of another love - that maker of that first heartbeat,
And that faint whisper of breath - that keeps us
Going towards the eternal, yardstick in hand

Capturing in frames mere fractions of time; 

Envisioning ourselves as the whole itself.

We are time moving forward, we're progress -

How do we want to define it? Measure it? 

Do we have a say at all? 

We can now be a day in a year full of nights; 

Of silence In a year full of screams. 

If we're the toolsmen of this universe, then 

What will be our choice? 

Would we spin our yarns towards the eternal, 

Or would we be happy making memes?