Possibility

Reduce, reduce, nihil.
Emerge from nothing's
everything vatal.

So the greens
in every shade,
thoughts imaterial
not found in a count
but inbetween
every counted one.

Stretched-out mind
hovers within,
guiding this range

to the tastes,
give me once more variety,
sweet, one's better than others,
sour after bitter,
long for the flying hot
for chilled experience.

So possibility trumpets,
but a final end of time
if it's not impossible it someday fade.