Monday, October 28, 2024

WELL, ACTUALLY

What is it that provokes 
any clean 
quiet morning 

in all its perspicacious 
stillness 

to ripple 
and dither into 
just another day? 

Is energy 
just coiled matter 

which has not yet 
unfurled itself 
and deigned to appear? 

As I ask, I notice I'm not even 
looking for the answer, 

because if there's 
one thing I know, it's that 
by the time I'm done inquiring, 

every word 
is abandoned 

like a seashell 
on eternity's shore—
everything we know 

is gradually 
something else entirely, 

without any 
reference to lesser 
or more.