for Cole
Stars and cards and benevolent gods all
conjured by those who’d have us see design
(where there might be none save the random fall
of capricious dice, tossing across time
from one hand unaware of its effects
not just on the other, but with intent
beneath what any body’s part suspects)
are hints at destiny or fate, well-meant
but move me less than that wildest chance that
amid clamoring chaos, from the void
our voices rose to speak and somehow met
to make of formless utterings, a word
we two could wrap around ourselves to hold
unlikely warmth and light against dark cold.
© copyright Shannon LC Cate 2003
Holy Sonnets
Beginnings
Epiphany
Pentecost
Rapture
Ancestor
Beloved Community
Commitment
Pagans
lilysea home
Life Illuminations Labour