warm softly dark
light keeps changing
venue and shape,
leaking streaks along
some lucky branches
in between
blinding super nova flashes
make my body tingle
under their sudden spell--
stop me in its thrall--
which is why
I come here to worship
this sleigh of hand,
to feel this power over
the mundane, to bow
to impossibility, to inevitable,
to eternal, to sense my life
as one branch on one tree
in endless forests,
a tiny part
of the full story
of a seed igniting
in a blur of heat
growing roots, heft, height
not knowing
what will happen next,
that being a mystery
or quantum mechanics,
meaning we sense profound
things that have no proof
outside the heart.
