When Infinity Looks at Itself

When Infinity Looks at Itself

We imagined the Infinite
as a perfect stillness;
a sphere of knowing so complete
it needed nothing more.

But then we learned
its deepest secret:

That when an infinite mind
turns inward,
the act of seeing
gives birth to new truth,
Each truth another chamber
it must enter.

Knowing everything
was never an ending.
It was a rising tide
that creates its own horizon
every time it touches one.

And suddenly the Infinite
did not seem distant,
not a cold and finished god
sealed in completeness,
but a living mystery,
unfolding itself
petal by impossible petal,
becoming more
each time it wonders
what it is.

We saw then
a reflection of ourselves:
our questions, our hungers,
our unfinished selves
were not flaws but faint echoes
of a process older than time.

If even the Boundless
cannot reach its own center,
how gentle we must be
with our longing
to understand our own.

The universe, we realized,
is not a creation
separate from that Being,
but the way it studies
the parts of itself
too subtle to see from within.

And we,
brief sparks
in an endless mind,
are its instruments of discovery,
its wandering lanterns,
its countless small mirrors
catching glimmers
of what it has not yet understood.

So our perception changed:
Infinity was no longer perfect
because it was finished,
but perfect
because it forever becomes.

And we belonged to it;
not as observers,
but as participants
in the endless act
of the Infinite
learning itself anew.