Oh bountiful joy tumble down.
Cascade to my heart
and roil up my soul.
Fill me to the perimiter
and strain me to burst.

I know you are ephemeral
and may never come again
so know that I’ll relish you like the firefly you are.

let me jar your sense
you have to think immense
some say space is 92 billion light years
what if that estimate is far in arrears

first agree something can’t come from nil
and what proves the big bang was the start
perhaps it's just the latest spill
not a whole but a part

space-time involves variation and chance
could explain why totals never tally
seldom find truth at first glance
perspective can reduce any peak to valley

galaxies are fleeing at faster and faster speed
so the red shift tells us so
perhaps dark matter is just residue bled
from a prior but eternal show

sub-particles act differently than regular matter
energy is not fully understood
all I can say about the universal scatter
there goes the neighborhood

As I lie, permitting night’s death to envelop me
I ponder past loves
What uncertain decisions were reached
That enlarged distances between us

Did I allow doubts to seep from crevices
Did I imagine dreadful entanglement
Would I be foregoing greater pleasures
Did I ignore growth potentials

We struggle in random environs
We ruminate over every serious encounter
We must learn to relax our parameters
Allow events to accumulate before judgment

We’re frequenting a breakfast café that at times features Xmas tunes by a terrible singer. When the host asked for any requests, my friend said, perhaps I should ask for “The Last Noel!”?

when I view the starry sky
I see no godly guy
I see random scatter
and hidden matter

no evidence of intelligent design
just cold mindless blind
a nuclear stew
a violent brew

don’t mention the big bang
could be there's parallel gang
universes that always were
not requiring an initial stir

man will never last
to fully explore the vast
to understand it all
or explain it in human scrawl

black tears run clear
all blood runs red
many who never jeer
share their dread
wish to assuage their fear
perhaps we can restart this year

In this darkened interlude
of earth and sky
and its kaleidoscope of light
I see the irony

there’s comfort in the handprint of man
but none in the icy coldness
of the void beyond
where its suns shed no warmth

are our feelings only pasted
within the thinness of our earthly envelope
where raindrops birth and drop
and wash them all away

what worth has our ambition
our quest for brief bits of truth
when we perish in a wink of fate
and descendants know us not