Tuesday - World

The World in a Carpet

From my bed I can see written in the carpet

The lines I leave traced along my pathways

Telling all who see, well, I need to vacuum

And the normal boundaries and routines

The world through which I walk each day

I go from here to there and there over

Chasing a life of meaning through concrete structures 

Wondering how soon it will all be forgotten 

As nature continues her unending cycle

Life and death and life and death and on

Each part totally ordinary, made of the same carbon chains

Variations on a theme of chemistry

Each part different from the rest 

The chances! The probability remains insane

Each inch a pattern of latent pathways

I just wrote a poem about carpet. Sometimes I wonder at myself. 

I said in the beginning, some would be good, and some would be questionable. I think we know where this one lies along that spectrum.