If the crisscrossing stars could be read
In the dimpled heavens turning above,
Like the lines interlocked in my palm,
Could you find a reason shining up there,
Why our destinies have unraveled
Into this knotted tangled moment?
They may be shifting and squirming,
But they’ve been watching us for years.
They may be smiling in yesterday’s light,
But they’ve seen countless todays before.
So maybe their glowing paths might
Lead us through the darkness home.
But I think they must be blind,
Scorched by their own searing light.
Faced with the unchanging view
Of infinite cruelty, disparate agonies,
Of humanity’s mistakes, repeated endlessly,
I would be thankful of ignorance too.