In The Zone

I love mysteries where

the resolution is adumbrated

by the first glimpse of the crime scene.

The detective never knows more

than we do, although her ability to grok

far surpasses our own.

We watch her eyes sharpen,

gleaming as she looks afar.

As if while we churlishly trudge

through drifts of snow,

she examines each micro crystal of a snowflake.

These tiny clues wag flags

so miniscule that we most likely

miss them, in our rush to

arrest the suspect.  I want to

cultivate that willingness

to find the fractals that

defy explanation

and use them for intuitive leaps

about the human condition.

Climbing up these perfect

weird patterns to reach

the stars — oh, the magnificence

of galaxies and clusters —

those constellations twinkling

augury like a mother fondly

watching a child who nests

matryoshka dolls, over and over

until finally saying,

oh, I get it.

Inspired by The Daily Word Prompt: micro