The grayness of this winter’s day
Can attest to powers there at play
Or Odin’s melancholy shade
Never cast itself on the midweek
When I was born, a child full of woe.
Four and fifty years ago
Three planets so aligned in Capricorn
To bring about a most unlikely quark
Though better it may be to say
I willed my own existence from a spark.
It’s not so much the hand that I was dealt
As how I choose to play this game of cards
Or rather play the music in my brain
Born with me from the distant spheres
A tragicomic song for mental ears.