Tooling the Eternity Farms

Tooling the eternity farms,
Their crops of ripe meditation,
Dissolution of form,
Retreating into a non-conceptual rainbow of dust,
Tooling the minds,
Finishing the subject with a polish,
A clear exacting gaze into the orange desert,
The place of power,
The field of intersection
Where the planes meet
In N-spaces of the countless dreams,
The endless dry riverbeds,
Dry with the boundless potential
Of us.