6/17/2015 Poem: In the Hiccup
Outside, the light is fading
like pastel chalk visions
caught in the afternoon’s gray cloud.
Yellows mix with – change to purple,
Orange to blue – blue to deepest black,
excepting, the raindrops, of canvas, revealing.
Take this point in time
Let it hang suspended – a moment frozen
– in one of millions of geometric frames.
Allow for, this one second,
to spell out its very own,
googolcomplectic, collection of plots in space
With each one, possessing
One hundred, twenty nine thousand,
six hundred degrees of Possibility.
Configure, the expansion
and contraction of this matter
like ocean waves in a dark sea.
Watch it ripple, and wrinkle
as it spins together through the unkind hands of Fate;
multiplying, an orderly mess.
upon one’s own deep loneliness.
to her wheel
as a child toddles in unaware.
There’s a hiccup
and a slight bump;
chubby hands rearrange all that’s there.
twin brown points, reflecting soul.
each one in its own peculiar spot.
It is in that
that I hear the voice of God.