All the hairs

All the hairs

counted.

The exact number known
while a chirping 
sparrow sits upon my horns.

The sparrow’s worth
not measured here,
nor the strands
of my furrowing drapery.

Our significance,
well, I’ll not be
the judge.

It appears our place in 
this time, this space,
IS our purpose.

Why spend time ‘pulling’
hairs?

It’s easy to know the sum,
even if you subtract.

And, even if you could
add a few more strands
to the weighted mass 
above your brow,

does MORE really mean
you’re ahead?

Yes, all these hairs
are counted for.