The Algorithms of Fate

 for Robert Bly

Eat your shadow as the poet says

And that's exactly what I did

But now my shadow's eating me

Night after night nibbling my ear

Whispering the strangest of dreams

Hand coloring local maps or so it seems

Until there's a blood red tide that laps

The shoreline of Weesuck Creek

And all night long I hear the strains

Of music playing softly beneath

The balcony - a serenade

Strummed on a six string guitar

By the cold hand of fear

The lyrics I remember 

But can no way explain

The path inward and outward

Is one and the same as we

Pass through the portal

Of ceaseless change 

Back and forth in accord

With our fate whose algorithm

We grasp when it’s only too late