Prayer to Chaos

Let the universe be random;

Let no choreographer impose
design on the dance of atoms;

Let the stars’ prophecies, the old dead light
skew past our lives;

If the lines on the palms of our hands
be life charts, let them swerve

like rivers when we touch;
no, not touch: collide.


Julie Kane
from her book Body and Soul
(Pirogue Publishing, 1987)
used with permission of the poet
and with permission of Pirogue Press

Comments are closed.