Like bits of quartz and dissolving sandstone
that slip slowly through tired and bent fingers,
the world can separate and shift, quite prone
to entropy; what energy lingers

just seems to founder, without direction,
while shreds of meaning flail into dead space,
and all hope is crushed by deep dejection
as the pieces fail to find safe places.

Spinning out beyond the realm of matter
in a maelstrom cyclone of crippling doubt,
the gentle soul seeks a haven of sense;

and sometimes, in the deafening shatter
as the pipes of peace are bruised with war’s shout,
love is the universe’s sole defense.

14 JAN 2003

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