Z

Apostasy

Eons back, it was probably on a day like this
 my egg left and met a random other
 rolling inside a geode womb
scraping a spark to cling
 to a makeshift constituency

I was someone who left too,
particled and determined
a rock out of a mountain
heaved from a flood's muddy bowels
sitting there for uncountable years

 Lines and  circles surrounding me
 I heeded sermons of love's scraps
 cut on the bias, meant for redemption
I arrived late to the feast at last,
deciphering the hallucination of purpose

Only, linking the chain does not
alone protect or enslave or capture
the search for your deity,
your thirst for truth or
the sizing of time

The bought and the gifted,
the random and the planned
the multitude and the sole
derive from one
leaving