Glancing out the Window

Never underestimate
The cosmic capacity
To find creation in loss—

Never overestimate
Its genius for creation
Without further destruction.

It still seems weird that this
Is the world as it is,
Much less what has to be,

That there are burning lights
At night and a massive,
Blinding sun half our lives,

That life requires hunger,
That parasitism
Is its most common form,

That there is this soulful,
Harmful outbreak species
Of sweet, vicious bipeds

Created out of loss,
Destroying to create,
Asking why it’s this way.