All of the rivers

somewhere between my Earth and my Sun
somewhere on my shattered path to skies
desperately mending particles of history
trapped in a tangle of places and time
I go through a Therapy of Fall
the usual Chaos of Forms below ascension
through not mine expression of complexity
of foreign digital order
the elaborate design
to make me aware of everyday miracles to keep me collected
counted
marked in a momentary game of chances
calculated by alien others
the sudden coincidences
so I remain a slave force
within a masterfully composed illusion
of unwillingly accepted projections

these are the days and nights when I question my purpose
origin
intentions
my place in a number
arriving always somewhere else but not here
hostile God
the cataclysm I have to override
with blood from the mouths
of all of the rivers
to future
present
and past