Maybe the tides of the ocean

           effect the phases of the moon.

The oscillation of the sea’s hips

           bring peaks and valleys to the lunar largess.

The rise and ripples, the tug and tow

           tantalize, coax and persuade a wax.

It slows, it wanes, it succumbs

           to the enchantment of the gnarly mar.


Maybe people’s paths

           effect the twinkle of the stars.

Conversations, course and action

           bring consequence to the constellations.

The heart’s thumps, hugs and wars

           astrologizing the celestial churnings yearnings.

They chart, study and contemplate us

           figuring themselves, their purpose, and mission projected.


Maybe it’s the devilish advocator

           that espouses divinity’s details.

It is the angels that pray

           toward human piety and reverence.

Mere mortals are Gods’ Gods

           bowing and idoling.

God, Goddess, the divine conscious

           living spirit enthralled with itself.


Maybe, what we project is what reflects

           and what reflects is how we detect another subject.

Mirrors for mirrors

           a palate for co-creative construction and destruction.

Figuring out who and how we are

           as we be ourself.

The question lies deep within,

           just beside its answer.