(*This is part of a series of poems I wrote about quantum physics concepts.)


Ancient men invented stories to

Answer their prodding children;

We like to think something

Has changed. They say, within a

Mathematical expression we can pin

A lack of secrets; that the particles

Have had us walking in circles

To hear a whisper they don’t care

To emit.


And we dare

Think history is a forward-flowing

Tide, that we have buried bullets

In the heart of every bygone myth.


But the mother’s misty eyes still search

For fate in the stars that perch

On the edge of her galaxy;

The everyday sinner never ceases to seek

A just cause for his muffled misdeeds.


They say photon after photon can

Challenge reality, in a spinning dance

That does not deviate from chance


And if so

I’ll be okay

Without destiny

In my coffee cup

No covert affairs

No blueprint to decipher