Ashes of particles, light as the air I breathe.
Just a matter of human debris.
How could any of this rationale be anything but our own destiny?
For all we know, dreams that will got away.
And, no amount of substance will make them stay.
Windows we once believed to be clear as day?
Simply fixed particles, for an imaged display.
Basic explanations to love’s effort…that will go about…its own way.
I have tried to reason away the care you give me.
Offered up logical examples for our bliss.
Yet, there always remained a nonsensical skylight’s array to why WE exist.
I am not a poet…but I play one through my words.
Alas, all that I can come up with is
an absolute loving of a vagabond…
still strikes me of being a notion that is absurd.
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