I want to take you by the hand to revisit the land of Hope.
I wrote this sentence after weeks of being unable to write;
Finally, out of the void, a trickle of pearls to string together.
Then, as I keyed the last letter in h-o-p-e, the phone rang.
Deeply distressed by events out of my control and/or scope,
I'd languished in unspoken limbo. Impuissante, vulnerable,
And strangely voiceless, I waited for the other shoe to drop.
Having done all I could, I'd stepped back. By letting go of
Expectation, even a hint of desire, any and all attachment
To a particular outcome, I'd created a whorl in the matrix:
A potent little gap in the fabric, a latent probability factor,
A stretchy bit of reality that forms around insubstantiality,
A coded script replete with tranquil absent-mindedness.
Refusal to play within a closed field of predetermination
Helps keep possibility's channels open. By not investing,
Paradox and Grace, invited to our table to sup, save face.
I wanted to take you by the hand, revisit the land of Hope,
But the phone rang, and we were spared the eurhythmics.