I’ve noticed the constant, systematic inconsistency of life.
The brutal asymmetry of the sum of my totality leads me to believe
My destiny is the product of my past plus my future, squared.
I am in fact an eagle, folded origami style, out of the tapestry of Eternity.
Either way, I smile and dance with a Pythagorean absolution
I shall ambulate all over the streets of gold.
The theological ramifications of my choices have
Become the composite my faith is derived from.
That’s all good and everything…
(I wrote this a while back in response to the belief poetry has to be sooo deep. Poetry doesn’t have to be anything.)
[Poem #13 of 30. Image by dailyinvention via Flickr and a Creative Commons License]