In the end it’s chance and energy
With their intertwining chemistry
All the rest is just my human search for sense
.
How the wind blows, who is where
What’s when, all the whys are something I invent
Time moves forward while my truths flail far behind
.
When my understanding has no base
Just the fantasies of our human race
Made-up truths and convoluted fairy-tales
.
Can be hard to face the randomness
With our cortex tuned to making sense
So I write some narrative I understand
.
Hawkins holes, big bangs in empty space
May be truths we find it hard to face
But belief in magic will not set me free
.
Kampala 2018