Saturday, April 29, 2017

Prescient Dot

Mostly in the visible colors
of light, somewhat
in the infrared, oracles remit
fragmented news.

X-rays, gamma-rays,
radio waves, shreds
of postcards from
the looming ante-room:

the pantry wherein
Time created Past.
Do the math. Detect
the sentient squall, whose

radiating hues besiege
the parabolic surfaces of all.
Peer through telescopes,
rotate domes, rise above

the ozone and pursue
a spatial resolution
of the prescient dot.
No, not that dot! The one

behind the moon, just
to the left of me. Calculate
the tenth-of-one-percent of it
that is your destiny.


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