The Natural Order Of The World

DALL-E did it

Broken glass.
Broken doll.

I want to keep the broken glass.
I will glue it together
and make something beautiful.
More beautiful than you,
little doll. Something…
metamodern.
There!
Look!
It oscillates pole to pole,
crest to trough,
sunrise to sunset.
No longer will I be
nibbled by the enemy.
My need for contrast
outweighs my comfort.
This is the natural order of the world.

Do the planets dictate our lives?
Are there
other forces
deserving
of praise,
or blame?
Our upbringing?
Our genes?
How free are we?
Am I to be
answerable for my actions?
Who cares?
I once cared.
That was then.
This is the natural order of the world.