Treasure Island

Jan Sand

(February 2 1926 / USA)

Blindman's Bluff


A blindman poking out
At doubt with his cane
Trying to discern
What insecurities await
Beyond the questing rubber tip
What fate would pounce and grip
His fund of future time.
That cane has been,
In his grasp,
All the gods of all the past
That dance him on their palm.
Odin, Zeus, Loki, Mazda,
Apollo, Thor, Mercury,
Yahweh, Allah, multitudes
In increment.
Of late that cane has acquired
More mundane names,
Though modern history
Has done little
To dissipate its mystery.
He calls it entropy,
Or the uncertainty
Of Heisenberg.
The world flexes
In the hexes
Thrown by relativity.
By its spells
We are nailed in space and time
To the snail's pace
Of the speed of light.
Still, the blind man pokes
And hopes and jokes,
Flailing at the universe
As best he can do
In his efforts
To push holes through.

Submitted: Monday, May 20, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 11, 2013
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