Chance and Coincidence
Pick a path he said.
I was surprised by the suddenness
Of all of the things he seems to know
To love
To cherish
I love how people do that.
Understand the world in a different manner
Breaking the day by day chatter
The stuff that is said by the mouths of the people who know nothing
Or not enough
Or not a lot
Or maybe they do but it just doesn't click with me
Maybe it doesn't sink into me
My heart my lungs my mind
Maybe they're too far behind
Maybe they aren't on the same wavelength
Or maybe a different timeline
Sometimes I wonder if the problem is mine
Not a problem in communication
Not a problem with elaboration
Not even a miscalculation
Just me
But then I find people that click
Like I've know them forever
Like we've always been together
In some sort of backwards past life
Or maybe we are perfectly made just right
Maybe we're supposed to fit like puzzle pieces
Into the nooks and seams and crannies
Of a perfect other person
Or maybe it's chance
No I refuse chance like its half rotten and missing teeth
Chance cannot be behind this perfect feet
Chance and coincidence are the brothers of ignorance
And ignorance is the daughter of Truth and Rejection
Neither of which do I want to discredit
But together they're a perfect nightmare
A perfect scream from a maimed beast called chaos
Because THIS
Isn't chance.
This is a puzzle made of billions of pieces
Cut like a maze of dull and sharp edges
Modeled after life's way of being cruel
But also fashioned to stay within its borders
Somehow we sometimes find the pieces that go near us
Like think of a forest scene etched into seemingly flimsy cardboard
Easy to tear easy to rip and easy to shy away
Easy to leave unfinished easy to leave in disarray
But just as easy to spend hours looking over
Finding that perfect piece
watching as they fit
It isn't chance.
I believe in Sternberg's Triangle
I believe in a structurally sound web of people that fit together based on relationships
I believe that this is some sort of grand plan by some looming omniscience
I believe I am made for someone
Someone who may be far away or close at hand
Someone of my same ideals, fears, and beliefs
Maybe someone who doesn't, but I wouldn't mind
Someone just like me
But hopefully not
Because life would be boring if I stayed next to the people that have my kind of knowledge
What would I learn from that?
Probably about coincidence
And I'd probably punch them
Because this isn't coincidence.
This is how the world works at its core
This is how we're supposed to live against and for
People and places and things Devine
But also for the moments that can't be defined
The moments that are made by steel and flint
Where two perfect things meet or two perfect things singe
And sometimes I feel the burn from the flames made by others
And sometimes I feel the chill brought on from a missing jigsaw piece
Because people alone are cold
Unless they like alone
Because some people are better alone
or they don't know what it could feel like to have that warmth wrought on by a perfectly fit piece
Some people think alone protects them
Some people are right
Others are dead wrong though too
Some people just refuse to see the truth
Some people are waiting for the other half to their whole
Some people are looking in the wrong places you know
And some are looking for the last cog
Some watchmaker's cog
And that watchmaker is waiting as well
A man who is looking for the perfect piece that makes you tick
A man who has the power to make or break you
A man who has the ability to see right through you to what is wrong
But most importantly, a man who can fix you
When you fall or break or chip or crack
Someone who's doesn't cover up your flaws but displays them like works of art
Someone who doesn't just hang you up but shines you before wearing you for the world to see
Someone who is proud of you
Sternberg talks of the three things needed for love
Intimacy, commitment and passion
Three small colors on you jigsaw piece
Three things that make you whole
Three little things that make you know
When you've found that perfect fit.
Pick a path he said
And I did
I followed him
Into that flimsy scenery of the forest
Filled with trees and plants and green and light
Littered with animals and rocks and flight
A delightful place
He said the deer trample these trails down with hooves
And I look to the ground and I see the foot prints
I see mine next to the dear tracks and I stop.
I looked up to him.
"I'm ruining it, aren't I?"
He shook his head
Then pointed out how well our foot prints seemed to fit into the others
The way that the mud seemed to stick to the pattern with such loyalty
The way it all worked together as a masterpiece.
We kept moving
Further into the woods and trees
Further into the natural scenes
And everything whispered silence
Everything seemed to harmonize
It can't be coincidence.
Then he stopped.
He took my hand and smiled
Not at me, and I was fine with that
He smiled around at the clearing
A small gathering of a little bit of everything
The trees move together
We sway a little too
The animals coexist in such a way that you can't resist
Wanting to stay
This is where the world breathes he says
Everything fitting together so well
Everything structurally sound
Everything whispering nothings and quells
Of innocence
It surrounds
It pulls you into the last empty spot in the puzzle
And nature holds you and never let's go
You found it, your place in the puzzle
Things have now clicked
Steel hit flint
Watchmaker fixed you and now shows you to all
But also cherishes you even if you fall
Shining you and showing you off.
The perfect fit finds you when you're not looking
The piece finds its place when you aren't looking for that piece
And even though it all seems to be perfect chaos
I beg to differ
Every perfection needs a creator
A curator
And an audience
And you can't say this coincidence.