What stirs the sea?
no sentimental thoughts
of grinding moon or gravity,
I fear it is but unintended nature…
[an accident]
the beauty of coincidence that men believe is theirs, the tiring search for God in natural proof.

What if we are nothing more than accidents?

Would I know you as I do, the cool
lucidity of thought…would that prevail?
Dare I say what nasty thing I’d be today had my beginning been no more than just an accident, some thing that tried to be but couldn’t—and flounders in the cold unflinching truth
that it cannot.