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