If change itself is infinitely divisible
With some remainder of every division
Of difference remaining apparently unchanged,
Then the only purity of either sameness
Or change is the final erasure into nothing,
But what is ever purely erased? Matter
Converts into energy, energy into matter,
Only pattern, a particular sort of sorted
Information, a soul if you’re such or dream
Of being one, can vanish absolutely
Into nothing, if that. If that can vanish,
Then I’d say that it was vanishing that
Has created everything, drawing everything
Out and onward, all infinitely tiny, cumulative
Differences in the rates of change, this river
Of Heraclitus drawn down always and only
Because of gravity, the final eater, the falls.
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