There is no guarantee

to find the sun, on waking

to expect things to repeat, be safe, stay in place;

to  presume,  or anticipate anything at all is folly.

While madness is a perception

reason, a supposition;

to endure, persist, keep striving

is  mere mechanical survival instinct.

Where is the nobility in all that?

 

Ah!

 But  faith says:  God is Good.

Cosmic purpose is benevolent.

Devine Intelligence permeates every atom and cell.

Yeah?!

 

I see the martyr burning:

the wise declared insane.

I see mortal corruption and decay

of endless endings and new beginnings

devouring each other

the pulse, the breath juxtaposed to stasis and moribundity

at every stage and level.

Each cycle, each unit, each fractal

expanding for ever inward and outward

plummeting wildly over the Swartzschild’s rims of no return

and through the skins of other worlds.

“Nice” has nothing to do with it.

Only Beauty, most terrifying.

My will, my well-being has nothing to do with it.

Only mindfulness.

 

Ah!

But  hope says: There is Meaning and pattern.

Evolvement  is fundamental.

Surely, Love and Joy are more than biology.

Huh?

 

I see the child abused

people, white-faced with the ultimate horror, slitting their wrists:

weeping alone in the small hour in desolation.

What pious illusion to fancy it is all Just

and will end “for the best”?

Or that ends justify

and karma is vindicated;

projecting puny anthropomorphic concepts of mercy and grace

 upon the Creator.

 

Any definition is subjective.

Any conclusion  relative.

 

There is no guarantee.