How many times have I watched the thunder clouds gather
over civilization?
How many times have I looked at my own hands and
wondered: "Where do all those lines and valleys come from?"
How many times have I picked up the newspaper and lamented
over the loss of "good news" journalism?
How many times have I witnessed the disappearing pinnacle
of the rainbow?
How many times have I had sex, and in how many different bodies?
How wombs have I been in?
How many solar systems?
Lifetime after lifetime, the body sprouts
from an infinitesimal seed the size of a microscopic
pea.
Lifetime after lifetime, the body succumbs to the iron-will of
Time, Great Dictator, Great Saint.
Lifetime after lifetime, love and hate exchange
sexual fluids in the carnal waltz of matter.
The only certainty is transformation.
Everything else is a rumor.
No comments:
Post a Comment