Strange what seeing the contents of a tree-fallen, broken egg chick can make you think.....
Eyes big,
Unseeing.
Black,
Unblinking:
Blank.
Casualty of Nature's vital statistics
Which pit breezes and gusts
Against branches and nests –
Her omlette works out
But never without
A few eggs being broken...
Like this one.
The 3D,
Unholy trinity:
Darwin, Dawkins, Divinity –
They all understand it:
The logic,
The rationale;
The input-output equation,
The life-death correlation.
I did,
Or thought I did,
But looking into the aborted eyes
Of what might have been,
I've decided I don't.
More correctly
Can't.
Won't.
Luck, fate, chance, destiny,
Whatever you believe it to be
Is too bloody arbitrary:
It could have been you,
It might have been me.
Then again, we're all prey anyway:
Vulture-food for collateral damage,
Guiltless, gratuitous road-kill,
Lightening conductors of heartless randomness.
I'm
The Alamo,
Bull-Run,
Little Bighorn,
Gallipoli,
Verdun
Iwo-Jima
Omaha
And Hiroshima
Waiting for Enola's Little Boy
To shine its sudden, baleful sun.
It's the arbitrariness that gets me,
Gets us all in the end....
....Maybe.
A moment ot sheer need to release all the angst and you do it with style in this wonderful outcry of heartfelt confusion Tony - -- a powerful write.