Ballistics!

Standard

Picking up the pieces,

Of past events,

And reassembling them,

To make sense,

Of the occurrences.

Predictions,

On the trajectory,

Of a rocket,

Aimed at open sky,

Which is harder to hit,

Than you’d expect.

The finely-sharpened, 

Somewhat dark art,

Of getting from the business-end,

To the destination,

And vice versa-

And how best to deliver it.

Chaos does not necessarily travel in straight lines,

But there is some order,

In the ways,

Of disarray.

The Waiting Game

Standard

Wu wei,

Each day,

Parlay,

Then part ways.

Nonaction, indeed,

Is a good strategy.

An absentee,

Cannot be,

On the team,

Deemed,

The loser.

Nonaction,

Trains one,

To run from,

The game,

Entirely.

“Let it fall on your lap,”

Relax,

Take a nap,

Do your taxes.

No matter how fast,

You run,

The rat race,

It doesn’t change,

The fact,

That beyond it’s face,

It’s a maze.