How can such beauty exist in sin

and why are the perplex things of

nature so

why is our reality so intricate and full

of  mystery

and question, (pundits), enigma, conundrums,

quagmires, dilemmas

why is our identity composed of so many

variables

why do I have to choose

what is right and wrong- which way

is left and what are the actions of my right hand

or the workshop when I am idle

Where is the art in you

Why does my muse inspire me

What is the motivation of my soul and

the impetus of my fusion

the direction of my spirit when

it returns to the source

what are the coordinates of my constellation

(the star I was born under)

and where was I when the star fell

from the sky

who did I love when the rainbow

shaped itself as a cipher

and zero was infinite as the

foundation of the universe

from whence do the words

descend when I’ve lost my breath

at the sight of you

and with what strength do I

record the scroll of my soul

why does my imagination spin

when the earth turns and it is

day and night in an absolute moment

trapped captured in

the tick-tick or digital switch

of 1 though 12 multiplied by 5

60 each time and 24  in whole

how can men measure that nymph

father time- the span of his wings

or the (barometer/mph) of his feet

who dares to penetrate the mind of God

who dares to penetrate mine

and who believes in a higher power

when we live as if we are the

masters of our fate

why is my love unnatural

why is my beauty deceit

and why do they look at me so

intently when I speak

hear and don’t see

see but can’t feel or fill

the footprints in the sandy plain

or the view from the windy plateau

the blood of the earth without its burn

and the product of the pressure on

Atlas’ back without its shine

who defines worth

and who is that fairy that sprinkles

dust over me while I sleep and dream

of unreal things

what is the truth of my metaphysical existence

what stain will I leave when I depart

ashes to ashes, dust to dust