except the choice

to make the world or not.

But then, who knows?

Do I?  I do.

But what do I,

except by chance?

Refiner's fire.

And then, what choices do I make

that were not made for me,

when random chance and circumstance

prescribed reality for me

within my web of flesh,

my brain, my animal?

Refiner's fire.

From time and space the DNA from two

and thousands yet before, linked up

and made the space I am in time--

like looking at the images of selves

while sandwiched in between

two mirrored walls--

the twisting molecules with patterns set

to replicate and grow a me,

a vehicle for changeling mind

that builds on pasts and banished ghosts,

yet reaches out to find the new.

Refiner's fire.

I know I came from stars.

I know I'll fall apart again, dissolve.

But what of in between?

What now, what then, what god(s), what                                    

 surety?

Alone, I feel alone

and search the deep inside or out.

I do not know.

I know.

Refiner's fire.

© Used with Permission