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.