Down the deluge, round the rotunda

Sailing through thick fog:

Hazy and obscure

On a raft, was Nu.

Nu, not an ancient outliver

Survivor, though,

One may say.

Having cascaded, through thick

And thin, high

And low, Nu

Knew

It all.

Nu, had seen

Change.

Not some ephemeral, transient

Fleeting, as twilight;

But change, as perennial

As time;

Phenomenal, as consciousness,

Pertinent, as facts;

Change like conception

Of a new spell.

So Nu cruised along, watching

The arenas so vivid,

So sharp:

The mind where Nu

Had existed.

Nu glided across the dome:

The Memory Dome;

Full of them, brimming as it was,

Some faint, others stark

Some glittered as prized they were.

Skimmed along the vaults:

The Social Vaults;

Friends and foes, allies and nemeses,

The ones that were loved

Or the ones lost…

Drifted past the spire:

The Emotion Spire;

Emanating feelings, of

Ardour, passion in the veins,

Gloom, blues in the sight,

Joie de vivre, at the heart.

But Nu, didn’t halt.

Past the obelisk, and the columns

Reached the base, that arena

That construct, that dais

Of experience.

Experience, of life.

Falling, tripping, soaring, gliding

Still discovering, still moving, still pursuing, still chasing.

At the bottom of,

The imposing edifice

Nu halted.

The structure, as muddled

As it was, but of

Such calm.

Like a tower of chance,

Of haphazard houses, built

Upon each.

A puzzled composition hovered

Around it, but resilience

Was its cement.

Built of life’s quests, some

Modest as a cubicle, of some artist’s studio

Some lofty, as a house of a man,

Shouldering responsibility.

Some enterprises, broken dreams

Shattered glass of hopes;

Or subtle sheets of bright hues,

 To veil life’s mistakes.

But all soldered with

Will so resolute, that

Storms dare not move the frame.

Nu knew, it was time.

Time to mend a wall, or sever one

To paint it brilliant, or smear an inky tone;

Nu knew, it was time:

The human had undertaken

A new endeavour.