Starving for meaning, an agnostic
bruising grey and white matter,
choking on maybes and half-truths,
finds indifference too easily. Never
pushing further through, cloudbursts
condensate but never conceive rainfall.
Something and always something
more gives pause, upon bathroom wall.
Scribbled as an epiphany lightening bolts
eye-opener, and its leakage capitalizes.
Each tagger finding more prophetic
words to denounce anything mystical
or godly. So, what's being fertilized
beyond the tinkling drain of insistence,
slumps downgrade to ebb of sewage
reaching sea. There amidst flotsam,
aeon's class of power perceived become
one with Supreme Being, an ocean.
The larger meaning of things.