Loose Lenses

Narrow your vision,
Miss constellations.
Savor the whole sky,
Lose information.

There’s no wholism
That trumps reduction,
And no reduction
Truer than the whole.

Instead, there’s no whole
You can get hold of
Isn’t reductive,
Cutting out richness,

And no microscope
So focusable
You’ve reduced the world
To final atom.

Atoms always fall
Apart, and stories
Meant to show the whole
Murder to compress.

Forgive a little
Restlessness in your
Own lensed perspectives.
The fixed miss the mess.