Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle
posits that if I pin myself face down
and drop the anchor –
seeking asylum in the aphotic waters,
the frayed edges of my soul would scatter
like startled sparrows rising into uncertain,
patina-washed skies.
Or if I yield to the muffled calls
of birch-bark white leshys
and run into the forest’s knotted navel,
with a belly full of wanderer’s hunger,
would I ever find the home I left behind?
I love life
the way I love physics –
without ever fully fathoming it.
Perhaps it’s a quantum poem,
not meant to be observed –
only lived, until many paths
collapse into the one that leads home.
Or an oral tradition,
handed down through generations,
each retelling blurring the truth.
Life is an itinerary of uncertainties,
each day running the risk of a missed train.
Some things, Heisenberg warned,
will always stay beyond our reach.