Countless minute suns

make up the galaxy that is a human body

and if the pattern goes awry

the center doesn't hold;

pattern and direction

turn at odds against design.

So shall we teach those suns to sing

again in measured harmony,

creating force of voices

sounding with a common goal?

Sing the blood, the flesh, the bones,

the very soul, to traverse their appointed paths

united in direction toward

realization of the will.

-- my friend Rae