The World Opened. A Line Began.

Slow Waltz Through Inflatable Landscape

by Christian Hawkey

At the time of his seeing a hole opened — a pocket opened —
and left a space. A string of numbers plummeted
through it. They were cold numbers.
They were pearls.

And though they were cold the light they cast was warm,
and though they were pearls he thought they were eyes.
They blinked. He blinked back.
Anything that blinks

must be friendly, he thought, until he saw the code
— a string of numbers — carved into their sides
and grew afraid. He tried to close
the space

but it was no longer his own. He tried to close his eyes
but they were no longer his. He tried to close
his mouth, his hands, his ears
but they were no longer

his, were never his to begin with: this was the time of his seeing.
The world opened. A line began. A tree grew above him
and he thanked it. A sun dawned over the line
and he thanked it. …

That’s only the beginning of this long poem. Read the whole thing at Poets.org. I found this from a list at that web site of poems about “thanks and gratitude” — that are supposed to be suitable for Thanksgiving  (which is today in the US).

I like these lines, from later in the poem:

Some things work very hard / to leave the ground.

-Julie

http://www.unrealnature.com/