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Wonder

               Like a plane rushing overhead, the world

and soluble moment – never far

 

from dreaming.  We could make

the blue sky rain.

 

                              If God

is Time

 

because when we die

we become it, but when

 

we are alive

we’re forced to live                 within

 

it, then perhaps

childhood

 

is the closest

we come


to divinity.

We’re alive


within’ it

but without


contention.  We’re

not afraid.  We’re afraid


of the dark, and of what’s

around that bend, and what happens


when you unscrew a fire hydrant, but we’re not afraid

of going to sleep at night.  Death was existential.  Death was a wonder.


Sometimes late at night though, like a little drill inside my skull, I would panic.

 

                                                         As we get older, that panic subsides, but so does the divinity,

because now we are in contention with time.  We cheat it, with a drink, a smoke, a

 

forbidden love.  We also live within it, with a poem, a song, a marriage. 

                                                                        And then you have your own kids,

 

and the panic and divinity are back.  This time maybe the divinity

comes late at night

 

and panic supercedes the day.  You are not afraid

of the dark

 

or what’s

around

 

the

bend,

 

and

you

 

know

how public infrastructure works,

 

but you’re

a little afraid

 

of going to sleep at night –

of missing anything.  Death is less existential, the spirit laid bare


before you, because life

is a wonder.

 

 

Posted 07/30/20
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