I wonder if sun rays
String the harp that God plays
While She strums the melodies
Of all the tragedies that Need to be
Need to be?
Or maybe it’s strung up with carcasses
And the heavens run on darknesses
Fed by that never-ending dynamo
Of live – suffer – let-go
The dynamo raging down below:
Pixels and gunshots,
Art, pain, and love plots,
Laughter and blood clots.
Lost in hypotheticals
Lost to myths of miracles
Ignoring what’s inside of us
Atoms, magic, cosmic dust
We’re of that self-same paradise
That lights the naked skies at night
We’ve got our own strings to strum
And they spill rhythm, dance, and reckless love.