But What No One Can Say

As ordinarily extraordinary
And extraordinarily ordinary

As an annular solar eclipse right
At sunrise in sparsely clouded skies—

A thing that has happened many times,
A thing that can be precisely predicted,

A thing that is too rare to ever see
In most entire human lifetimes,

A thing that can be chased and caught,
Given enough resources to waste,

That can seem unearthly and terrifying
If completely unexpected, unexplained,

That can seem like a miraculous gift
If experienced by fluke coincidence,

That has no intrinsic message but
Will be tatted with meanings by us—

This is not the kind of amazement I want.
I wish for an almost opposite awe,

Unpredictable, singular in each instance,
Caught unawares but immune to pursuit,

Earthy, non-miraculous, absurdly unlikely,
What means but what no one can say.