(For Emily, my Muse)
The Universe, indifferent,
Orders the way of things.
We are powerless,
Yet conjure grand schemes.
And our magic is doomed,
Crushed, flattened, twisted and bruised,
As our hopes are dashed,
Melting away, in misty sad tears.
Indifference is blind,
She carries no compass, nor watch, nor ruler,
And measured scales will never trick,
Our sentiment-free, destroyer of dreams.
Yet all of the failures, all of the pain,
Fall into line at the call of the cosmos,
And that dream’s memory of hopeless rehearsals,
Transforms, creating a perfect première.
The script falls together, it all makes sense.
Decades of queuing in solitary sadness,
Indifference, my mentor,
Finally reveals her plan.
The Universe, indifferent,
Has ordered the way of things.
And I am grateful,
For the grand scheme she conjured for me.
(08.11.23)
appetite-2-write 