We Need Your Undivided Consolation

Is there any way to sum,
To total, tie together,
Sequences of lived events

That makes sense of them, if not
Quite meaning, a way that’s not
A scorecard or a story?

The merfolk, at ease in waves,
Busily stitch tapestries
Tying those waves together,

Which seems like a metaphor
For futility, but look
More closely at the results.

Their weaves front no narrative
That runs through the whole, although
Fragments foam up here and there,

And, estimate what you please,
Their long threading of patterns
Finds no final dimensions.

You say there are no such threads,
No tapestries, no patterns?
Now who’s playing the cynic?

The whole is as it happens.
If you study any waves,
You’ll notice they’re connected.