When the orchid gathers its strength
and from its split and sensuous roots
gives up its blossoms like prayers
are you the cause?
When the airplane plunges,
the tumor keeps its appointment,
are you behind that?
Can you bob and weave, avoiding blame?
We shake our heads and look up
as if expecting a kindly face there.
Of course I'd be surprised if you answered.
Hearing voices is another thing untoward.
We decide that these are gifts.
Understanding reaches us
like light from a dead star.