If there is something in nature you don’t understand, odds are it makes sense in a deeper way that is beyond your understanding.
If you see fraud and don’t shout fraud, you are a fraud.~ Nassim Nicholas Taleb
Under a quivery yellow
tulipifera—in this breeze,
lit by a sunbeam right before
the rain comes. Who can hear secrets?
What is the sound of a thousand
trembling leaves? A stage whisper
reaching into the receptive
cells that vibrate living. Can we
recognize the song cascading
past the stained-glass windows? In the
fastness, pious people kneel eyes
closed before their almighty white
patriarch, chanting, gulled and farmed
for their subservient tithing
to the very ones who kill the
sacred mother, dispossessed of
even her holy spirit. Saved
by random unrecognized
movers like this impossible
black swan, unpredictable
slipping into our collective
shadows unclaimed and unnamed—
look, just there in the blink
between dreams and soft waking.
There is no other place to go.
There is no better song than yours,
issuing right now off-key and
fun, original lilting you.