The Mathematics of Chance
does what works. The way a
kidney works, silent and
reliable. Until it dies the Good Death.
The mathematics of chance works
like a force that doesn’t control, an
energy that doesn’t consume, and
a power that only seeks to be loved.
That’s the way it has always worked.
Spreading attention over the whole,
while leaving nothing undone.
Like a stream reaching the lake.
Crazy Horse (for my mother)
You are my
Crazy Horse.
My warrior chief
and Grandmother Earth.
And long before you
surrendered, you stood
your ground. So my
children have the freedom
to dance among the teeming
game of buffalo ghosts.
Burning Spirit
Blessed and softened
Aligned and healed
Integrated and dissolved
Jesus said too little to
remember all at once.
Yet his solar interior had
its own atmosphere.
Beyond the solar wind,
it burned fiercely with the secrets
of the heart, as a single photon
may have taken a million years
to pass through him.
Just like us.
Encounter on Durand Lake
Startled
by strange
steps with
a New Balance
bounce, like
a Boeing jet
arising, a
blue heron
folds into
a cast-iron
darkness, its
wings
for an instant
flashing silver
speckles
of glitter
over the
unamimous
stillness
The Adirondacks
wild, instant
knowing
intestine intuition
and sermons in stones
the wisdom of
mountains
thirsting for
affection
like toddlers
Honor Her
Be wounded with her
Be empty with her
Be homeless and happy with her
Be exuberant, without
me telling you. By the
trees, be a light among her.
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image: George Payne
