I quietly sit
while trying to fathom in idiom span,
looking out across life’s distant canyon
delicately carved
by the black pen
clenched tightly in my hand.

As the stars trample upon glory
desperate held by the deadened night,
and breezes break in swishing sound
to disregard the silent trees delight,
the moon shines in utter defiance,
as if obstructing daylights plan,
and as I contemplate in silence,
I begin to understand.

Life
simply comes down
to fate and circumstance,
like timing that falls into the crevices
between accident and chance.