S.C. Flynn

For Claudia

Maybe it absolutely had to be

according to the laws of physics;

it often feels that way, for sure, as if

the whole history of the universe –

the creation of the elements

that made us in the hearts of vanished stars,

the forming of the galaxies and planets,

Earth’s atmosphere and seas, the flash of life

and the twisted path of evolution –

all followed a pre-determined way leading

inevitably to our meeting; call it fate

supported by science, though unsatisfying.

I want to believe that I made it happen

through choice and free will, like everyone else,

preferring the illusion of liberty

to the rigid dance of destiny,

but even then I can’t help remembering

that underneath the formulae of science

lies the random world of quantum mechanics,

where nothing is predictable; somehow

that element of chance then disappears

when atoms enrol in chemistry.

Even so, if in some way the lottery

survives into the world of objects and thought,

then I’m happy and will ask no more questions,

because out of trillions of permutations

this unpredictable universe gave me you.

Published in The Madrigal