The oak table is heavy br But I am more the immovable object br Trapped by my own stubborn resistance br And fear of crossing an imaginary line br Separating my minute universe br From the unphantomable Infinite br br The sparse energy br I expend while just resting br My puny hand upon the table top br Is drawn from the same wellspring tap br That fires the birth of stars br And set the Spheres spinning br Through infinite Space br br No doubt the table and I br Share a common heritage br We are born of star stuff br And this same dust br Will one day again br Find its way swirling br Out to rejoin br That inconceivable energy br From whence it br Was born br br Could I but understand br Overcome any fear br Make the connection br How easily my hand br Would slip through br That table top br Someday I know our individual br Essential star stuff will merge br But I resent the waitingbr br Mary Havranbr br