If indeed I’m hurled into
a bleak, uncaring multiverse,
pray, what cosmic hand hurled me here?
Why are monstrous fears so few
and nightmare predators no worse?
Why are pleasure’s yearnings so severe?
I encounter beauties such
as cause this void I call my heart
ever to deny its emptiness…
Appetites desire so much
that can’t be listed a la carte—
hungers plague too deep for one to guess.
Am I meant to find a place—
a home with fire in its hearth
where the flames won’t burn it to the ground?
Can the mean-er show its Face,
a god-like visage here on earth,
clear, unclouded, simple, yet profound?
Hurled, what kind hand catches me,
a hapless pawn, a passion vain,
one whose wonder blunders to and fro?
Kindly give me eyes to see
the torch to purge my soulish pain,
heal me, and then tell me where to go!
Every atom in me screams
for meaning in this multiverse—
for a sound equation to ascend.
Honest observation seems
to point me to a cross’s curse
where a Lover died to save his friend.
MNA
10/12/26
