Yet Another Way

When, by chance,
sweet balance is advanced,
enhanced by some sporadic
and involuntary luck –
unlooked-for ineluctably
voluptuous felicity –
somatic, silly, deep and glottal

as a nesting chicken’s cluck –
gently surging into
and usurping every
psychic aperture –
from echo-ridden cavern
to tight tiny silent duct;
when random amplitude exudes

an effortless benignity,
dissolves the muck –
becomes the strangely simple
order of the day –
a voice in you may gently
burble up, and say:
“Yet another way.”

.