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.


Look away,

with understanding,

upon one’s own deep loneliness.




turn again

to her wheel

as a child toddles in unaware.


There’s a hiccup

and a slight bump;

chubby hands rearrange all that’s there.


Suddenly I’m,

staring into,

twin brown points, reflecting soul.


Puzzle pieces,

resolve completely,

each one in its own peculiar spot.


It is in that

tiny hiccup

that I hear the voice of God.