The Magic Of Uncertainty #poem by Jan Sand

Rhyme, like time, can snag random complicity,
The territory in which sound itself jungleizes possibility.
Where the feral guess is in the egg as well as creativity.
To believe to know crushes the embryo of chance where Kant presumes
An inborn inner certainty wherein any rooster cries morning Suns to rise to defeat
The midnight Moon whose ghostly eye spooks the starfull skies.

The is that is is the fragile glass goblet that we can presume contains the universe where
Here is here and there is there now known to be a mistake where cats can be and be not
In simultaneity until we check, and not forgot. For time is not for giving nor forgiving.
Most oddly Einstein’s quadridimemsionality is slippery in grasping whens and nows and thens
Despite both roosters and their hens unaware that gravity depends on what holds the reins.

Unpopular as it may be, if time turns out to have extensions more than one,
This universe becomes a puzzle of much huger fun.