Black as coal
        Darker than a moonless night sans stars
           As blind to sight as a blizzard to a      
                                               snowflake



   is this mystery


drawn
compelled
inexplicable
      Yet with sooooooooooooooo many black       holes one has to wonder


How ever does this universe exist?


Einstein would have thot it child's play

      "Simple you bafoons,
                  One creates the chaotic world they exist in
                                     and
the other is throughly  entrenched in the theory of a chaotic universe —

so no matter the
                                                head banging


there is a  river running thru
and   rivers   of  l  o  v  e  

are rare

                






And when found
                                           run
                                                       d
                                   E
           E
               p
p
  e
    r

than imagining.



                Flowing strong
                           from time immemorial till time ceases to exist.






            But  rivers

                   Be they crashing as white water over hidden boulders
                    or pooled
                   black as night
                                   masquerading as swimming holes


never,never,never run clear and bubbling
                                                    Like brooks strayed from streams.


rivers  are     a. L. I.                V.   E
           In constant f, l, u,x
          

Always flowing

Ever moving.

So why are you surprised to witness this miracle?  E=MC2  "



                [Silly,  expecting constancy when change is the only constant to be true]

Buoyant, Oblivious
Drunk on manufactured insouciance -
How did we did not notice life’s quickening -
As we were caught by the pertinacious story-currents
Of our lives.
The torrent
Of consequences delayed
Long disconnected from their antecedents;
Of our personal mythologies -
Lies, truth and misremberances
Churned together into an exploding froth:
The anxious anticipation
Of our ineluctable destruction
At the base of the falls
Where the water, like a perpetual gospel choir
Shouts and sings in joyous celebration at being made whole.

So we hold on tight.
To whatever we can.
To today.
To each other.