simple shifts in the same scene
keep at bay a homogeny of experience.
sunlight like silent scriptures scribbled with
spectral nuance across the umbra of cosmic revolution,
scattered by clouds and disfigured by oceans.
caught by creatures bound by rock and atmosphere,
whose shapes and shadows offer subtle narrative
to the empty
habits of the cosmos, as in us they terminate
in reflection, personification, religion, perhaps
entombed in crumbling pyramids of poetry or
to throb in the arteries of art's anarchic ache.
or perhaps, and most of all,
a meaningless coincidence
given to the labors of proving
human purpose and