Things That Make No Sense, by Rob Sullivan

twig cracks underfoot,
rain drop chooses
this moment to fall
into a puddle

eyes smile serene,
knowing long beyond
the kingdom of words
the province of thoughts

mind blown as the wind
shifting, sculpting
dry, desert sand
into a greater design

body, ephemeral vehicle,
for this leg of the journey
that spans the birth and death
of many universes

spirit remembers true calling,
dross melts away
revealing wondrous beauty
of a love supreme.