I ponder over our lives’ spans
and wonder what true threads lie through
that for us each might show direction
in which to steer what we accomplish.
Who spins those threads? To ask reopens
the chance to make each moment new.



There is a kind of true seduction
that, unlike lies, does help us grow.
To see the contrast is a challenge.
For how, when young, are we to tell?
We find ourselves far gleams pursuing.
By our results we come to know.

No Landing

“No Landing”

Arpeggios of early learning.
The flatlands of our cognizance.
The trouble with authorities.

When looking for new intuitions.
Ideals are approximations.
To see death is a privilege.



That I’m awake I must infer.
The fixedness is guarantee.
For, if this were a lucid dreaming,
I’d choose to levitate completely.
And beautiful landscapes fly over,
and dive down deep into the sea.



Some physicists say our sun’s blessing
is sending us low entropy.
We turn the favor, re-emitting
much higher measures of disorder.
And when all’s gone, we’ll rebegin
a zero-reset cosmic journey.