A way-back poem for the first of May, to mark the end of National Poetry Month, and the beginning of the next stage in this strange journey we’re on.
How can one seduce happiness then make it love you enough to stick around?
knots in the wood flaws in the pattern of the oriental carpet a brown withered leaf on an otherwise healthy plant this is how we know that things are real a speck of dust on the TV screen a missing scale on an ornamental Koi a scratch on a smooth surface scuff marks and worn patches on an old guitar this is how we know that things have lived sometimes I understand the revolutionary’s disdain for perfect fingernails, overly coiffed hair, and hands without callouses This is how we know that we have lived: bruises, cuts, and scars on all our parts hearts included
Passing effect: The effect of passing through things – Leaves, hair, branches, hearts – Equal and opposite reactions; We pretend that contact is only temporary, that everything always only passes by, and through – and yet – even Jupiter’s tiny moons affect the giant’s gravitational field.
Gravity: A force so weak, you can defeat it with a fridge magnet, or a piece of tape; – and yet – Even the weakest forces can surprise you, how they keep coming back; The persistence of the everyday: You can jump up, but you’ll always land.
All these fleeting melodramas, the private riots, the secret rebellions, a universe of stories unfolding inside this infinite travelling picture show; one might call it a kind of madness.
…and yet… Sometimes, for one suspended moment, as we stand on the brink that little voice in the back of our mind, daring us to take that one small step out into the air, we remember some future day, the one we’ve waited for, all this time when everything becomes clear and we know at last that flight is, finally, possible.