Chaos

Sometimes we see something shimmering on the surface of Chaos

Some men call this God

Or fate

Or synchronicity

Others shake their heads

Rub their eyes

And say

'Well that was fucking weird'

'But there will be some rational explanation I'm sure.'

Still others simply block it out and say that it never happened

And go on with their lives

A rose by any other name would be as sweet

Say 'fucking trippy!'

'Fuckridge!'

'Oh ma gosh!'

Say

'For Christ's sake.'

'God almightt!'

Or just 'Jesus!'

There are those moments when we tread on the Universe's third rail

And get the shock of our lives

And realise that we are in truth alive

And it feels almost as if the Universe lives with us

And has been following our every footstep

That the pilgrim and the path are inseperable

And that life is made along ubiquitous desire lines

That man makes the path

And the path makes man

Is there much difference

Between a pattern

And a plan

Is it odd to fight over the somantics of whether the world is elegantly designed

Or spontaneosly elegant

Human nature can get ugly pretty quick

Bigots and pedants make me sick

E J Povey 2013