Saturday, February 12, 2011

The Universe City

It gives
and then it yields
a kind of breathing

that becomes
in our magnified glass
like birth and dying

unfathomable gratuity
these bones are so
unworthy of

then cruel withholding
of what the soul
deserves, an answer

the joyous letter from
a long-lost friend,
the call that's not

returned -
to learn to lean
into the lesson

to not expect
one's Lego village
in the flesh

instead, a road
without directions
without an ending

one can see
only surprises
that roll like dice

reflections
trembling
of mere survival.