Life, creativity, better even than God
which many believe in, more than the dollar
or the existence of fermions—does it matter
that Antares can consume 663 trillion Earths?
Monstrous weight, that can, if you like, be lifted
by the work of bees: a miracle none foretold.
We can’t get it right like Newton—we search
for patterns to lay it down in best durable forms
watch the sea deal with rocks, feel sand between
your toes—let’s say of art that it thinks differently
about the shape of mushrooms we picked together
on Saturday—we don’t know anything about them
except two hours of fun in paddocks: the biosphere
and adventure ours—no one’s going nowhere
but the infinity of our own creative purpose
arriving at a place unknown.