Ode to Randomness

Nobody knows exactly

how that tree got 

that shape, or why the

sunset the other night had a 

tinge of purple in it

In nature there’s no answer to 

why, there just is

Artists revered for 

capturing or even

constructing these worlds of 


But this is not a pipe 

and Pollocks aren’t random

a painting of a sunset 

doesn’t interest me for 

everybody knows where it’s

to go; on the wall

But where is my sunset

to go; tell me

will it string itself across 

the horizon on the backs 

of the clouds just hovering so 

or will the force we call 

God bring them creeping 

forward so that the sun may

reach or stretch its fingers out 

and touch my eye with pure 


I don’t know

the earth itself is more creative 

than you think.