divinations

things break, and birds
carry off strands and pieces
in beaks, to build nests with
each shiny thread
woven into an interpretable pattern
decorated with shards

clouds burst
they are not crying
that's jism

eww

unfortunate metaphors
are run with

the earth is doused
with heaven's rich seed
as the grasses sprout
and the fruits grow
wild, and beasts feed -
fattening
the world's continual harvest
some pagan excuse for a carnival in the making

hey,

let's you and I lay back
and make our own excuses to the stars
why our destinies are not
lining up with, living up to
the signs laid out

this fate is ours