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
random
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
unpredictability
I don’t know
the earth itself is more creative
than you think.