madness

Brilliantly nonsensical
Pulsating stars on the brink of explosion
The delicate imbalance
A teacup on a spindle
Wobbling violently
Threatening disintegration
A gentle wind could send it to its end
Yet with equal force it asserts itself

Things did not fall apart this time
The center did hold
The storm could not sweep us away
They might be right to call it "madness"
But that by any name,
is the most beautiful thing I could imagine for my life