In the end it’s chance and energy

With their intertwining chemistry

All the rest is just my human search for sense

.

How the wind blows, who is where

What’s when, all the whys are something I invent

Time moves forward while my truths flail far behind

.

When my understanding has no base

Just the fantasies of our human race

Made-up truths and convoluted fairy-tales

.

Can be hard to face the randomness

With our cortex tuned to making sense

So I write some narrative I understand

.

Hawkins holes, big bangs in empty space

May be truths we find it hard to face

But belief in magic will not set me free

.

Kampala 2018