Up {a #Poem}

“In the beginning”

begs the existence of a

dot, the endpoint of

a line referencing time and

movement, like an ant on

the Golden Gate Bridge.

If there is time (now)

and movement (how?)

why do we shun this

guess the size of a

galaxy, turn from the

possibility of a God

placing us just so?

I may travel by antenna,

feel my way blind on small

steel and close pavement,

stopping for crumbs.

But just because I cannot

see it does not mean

there is no sky.

4 Comments

at Reply

Thank you, Jennifer. The words came after a workshop where we were encouraged to write between the lines. I like how this turned out.

at Reply

I don't know how I missed this one. Superb. A poem to return to.

at Reply

thank you, Diana.

at Reply

Love this one, Jody. Thank you.

4 Comments