All things are made of stardust, logic’s enemy
For when an explanation is void of logic
Few can be satisfied; at peace

All human excuses.
laid down in structured subjects, each one,
destroys free flowing innovation
when sea stars are merely an equation
when computers can recreate the sun

Where is the wonder?
Why so concise?
Abolishing sweet simplicity will surely come with a price.

When rays of light dash ‘cross your face, you can’t graph it.

Show me a smile, how can you map it?

Are feelings hollow metal?

Is that what they’ll become?

As I tread the grains of sand, scattered with sea stars,
I appreciate their purpose.
Simply there without clear reason.  But their unknown duty is never done.
Existing in the sea mist.
While my mind floats adrift.
I don’t want to question the sea star and
The sand’s motives.
Do they owe me one?