THE WAY IT IS

The moon can be personal even intimate
for lovers lying softly beneath silver light
while telling each other the vast universe
worked to make the magic moment come
just to them unique and special and right
to prove a god of order sense and system
preordained this and every small moment
in the universe of quintessential goodness.


Unfathomable universal clockwork whirrs
spinning rotating circling looping planets
suns being born and dying exploding into
space dust flung wide and maybe like all
of us and everything heading finally for a
sucking black hole located in the middle
of whatever wherever galaxy it belongs to
taking everything and giving nothing back.