Vachon Imagined

I was speaking with a man who prefers permanence.
Not because reality is fixed, but because fear is.

Permanence is comfort disguised as control.

We name what we cannot hold.
Naming is not possession.
But we mistake it for power.

The map forgets it is not the ground.

The top begins to believe it created the bottom.

Intellect does this easily.
It builds certainty out of motion.
It calls containment truth.

But life does not stay contained.

What is forced into form begins to press back.

The table turns.

Not slowly. Not gently.

It turns on certainty.

It turns on the mind that confuses naming with knowing.

Monuments replace movement.
Ideas are sealed instead of lived.
God is reduced to definition.

But what is living refuses final shape.

What is made absolute becomes unstable.

And what is unstable always returns to motion.