Eustace Tilley In Heaven Ii Poem by Morgan Michaels

God, you shall find, if nothing else, has a sense of humor
hard to explain. Like when a bird is not a bird
but a messenger, bringing in its wake
news of the day; or when a Perseus,
casqued and mirrored, an aphid clinging to his throat
hands immersed in feather, lost
in dissolving equiry, is none at all; or when,
highly functioning and searching for an idea of order,
we are handed merely a web,
teaching us that by future standards, we
presently leap and frolic like foals;
or then like when a boat is not a boat
but a sparrow sipping a mud puddle;
on it goes on. Just remember when you heard it from me
in future times, that song unheard, unheard.