Bones

We're much smarter than we think,
But we think as idiots,
Relentlessly repeating
The same obsessive patterns
Crediting the universe
For thinking like a human.
That is, until we throw bones.

Our dice, our tea leaves, our runes,
Our tarot, our shoulderblades
Cracked over our anxious fires
Under blind planets and stars
Blinking at our loneliness,
These sages are our saviours,
Ways to think more like the world.

To forgive or seek revenge,
To always search the same spot
For the disappearing prey,
To always pray the same prayer
For lottery or wisdom
Is predictably human.
To randomize is divine.