If asking curly lace of sky,
Would argue you with fate or cautious dim?
Would spend your precious minutes of the night
To only find that the time is spilled?

If asking hills or ocean of forever,
Would follow you the grace of pathless winds
Or ever-changing quirks of restless feather,
For fleeting glance at sudden coin's flip?

In grains of sand, there's entire truth,
With rare hints of reason and foresight,
That often found rather in the fruits,
And trees that rather spring despite of tides.

June 2024