Next Thursday I’ll be facilitating one of Living Poetry’s monthly poetry workshops. I think I’ll submit this poem which I wrote Friday evening at the Hillsborough Weaver Street Market under the influence of new friends.

There are no coincidences
The world
The universe
Each of us
Connected
Intimately
Pull one thread
The tapestry waves
Purposely blown by the breeze
Remove one
It unravels

But the world
The universe
Is too big
Too random
Too frightening
To a mere mammalian mind
Patterns must be identified
Tiger or wind in the reeds
Face of god in the clouds
Coincidences must be explained
Else we go mad