Another 1.02 Am Poem by Andrew Lee

Why are there so many 1.02 am and things keep recurring

inside a string of hazy memories. They seem to happen before.

But I shrug at the notion of being stuck in a multiverse.

There cannot be another me at this moment at 1.02 am

I know Dr Cyril Wong. He's a splendid person.

He penned a well-known poem with a similar title.

And I seem to know Samuel Beckett who nearly lost

his life while engaging in anti-Nazi activities

and saving quite a number of Jews.

And Beckett humbly said, It's part of his scout duty.

Makes me feel that God is resilient and alive,

a suffering God amidst the cruel random forces

He unleashes to subject Himself to a Stringent Self-Challenge.

Is there something among the grey clouds

that move across the sky now to hide the crescent moon.

Who's reading poems via Poemhunter

on the other side of the globe?

Perhaps I should be asking, how come the human mind

can understand a poem and its hidden meaning.

The brightness of the moon is saying something.