Infinite, Alternate Ifs
What if peace came
from the storms, or fell
gently, like spring rain,
would we welcome it,
or squirrel-scamper to treetops
to watch and scold?
The woman gazes in the mirror,
all her selves are there
stretching back, leaning forward
in an endless line. She wonders
what they know, what they remember.
Stun me with bytes,
we interface by chance in chaos theory,
here the migration of people, there a spark–
if streams from many sources
in our multiverse.
Now ask how the moon chants
for thousands of years,
or how the fiddler plays, echoing the stars—
it is the loneliness of souls
Once a boy asked, and a girl said yes–
arm in arm and heart to heart
hours passed, then days and years
a rhapsody, a waltz–and syncopated beats
aligned in a steady march together. This way, home.
I’m posting yesterday’s poem from the Oracle. It was our wedding anniversary, and the Oracle gave me this cadralor. It’s an odd love poem, but I suppose that fits us–and this week. I don’t know why WP thinks #2 should be indented.
I hope Mr. Knight will be pleased with the ifs. 😏