Chaos is not a storm

Chaos is not a storm

Trapped in a bottle

With a miniature ship

In full rig

Fighting just to stand still

It is the bottle tossed upon the sea

Wither it will go

Is independent of its purpose

The ship lies protected

Insulated against the turbulence.

A baby in a mother’s womb

Mood affected by outside forces

Helpless, hopeful

Held in amniotic suspension

Reliant on simplicity of design

For viability

Sustainability

As the fragility of its world

Is tested.

There is a randomness

To chaos

A lack of intentionality

With no purposeful hostility

Even at the breaching

Cracks in a system

Whilst catastrophic,

Disturbing the balance

Of a closed environment

Magnifying weaknesses,

Progress in accordance

To the lines of stress

Implicit in its shape

Failure is structural fatigue

There is no intention

Chaos does not know

Nor does it care

What happens once

Unseen wings have fluttered

And an unknown

Red Admiral has flown

At full tilt

In all its glory

Head held high

Into the teeth of a wild, wild wind