A convoluted theory
poured from the radio,
decrying the current
cultural fixation
with certainty.
We need room for mystery!
A mandate to breath in our doubts,
drink down our yearning
for negative capability.
The claim (seems simple enough):
dark matter strewn throughout the universe,
by implication throughout
our-very-selves,
a crossroads,
our intersection
with another dimension.
I’m not sure what to do with that
but leave it here in this poem.
Let us lift then, a tiny cup
tossed up with the tide
amongst piles of detritus
strewn across this beach.
Though not nearly enough to quench this thirst,
it will have to do.
Let us sip rain water from a shell.
A toast to dark matter!
Obscura Materia,
Our Lady of the Portal,
Our Black Madonna,
Certainty sown through uncertainty,
She that awaits us all.
Interesting. Yes the need to control our life, to make certain all things. Because uncertainty is too difficult. But ride the wave of uncertainty is what life tries to teach us. Then we can be certain that we can handle it
Keat’s Negative Capability Letter, alluded to here, is a wonderful testament to your point.
🙂
Lovely poem…I’d like to sip water from a shell.
🐚…thank you
Beautiful! We sure do need room for mystery!
We certainly agree on that.