No matter what collides, day into night,
God into fear, love into debt, the smallest
particles of secret into its darkest hour-
essence inexplicably survives.
The manner in which things collide:
dutifully, remorsefully, with resignation
or fight changes nothing,
no matter how traumatic.
Only this: the discipline of our world,
the way in which it keeps itself separate from
its obvious beauty and its terrible truths
offers perhaps a sweeter promise.
No matter. A million particles of light
in the shape of a ladder climbs sleepily
into its silver bed, huddles like a child
and falls into sleep.