An event
Bent upon itself,
What else could be
Before beginning,
A notch in nothing
Through which things pass
Faster than light?
What might ignite
Genesis, whose seed
Is itself?
Sense, mass, clay
Compose this thought
Or not, or yours
Where eternity pours
Its spark --perfecting
In light or dark or
Rain retained in
Leaf-filled fissures,
Erosion slows and
Life grows.
First, even before reading this, I had to look up the allusion and found--among others--what seems a fascinating illustrated article about the topic: http://www.trufax.org/takyon/ and then I wanted to see the connection between the bees pollinating the marigolds and the Einstein-Rosen Bridge concept, and found http://leisureguy.wordpress.com/category/science/page/19/ So with all of that deconstructing at hand, I fearlessly read the poem, forgetting all my earnest but misbegotten research. And found the wisdom of the philosopher gardener once again in the images and lines themselves! I read and re-read, enjoying the poem's lovely trompe-l'œil of it all!
ReplyDeleteAh Willie! Your research is in no way misbegotten. But one can't speak of trompe-l'œil without consulting Pere Borrell de Caso's "Escaping Criticism" --1870s. Where we dismiss boundaries between real and unreal is where the mind is most accurately described. Math, physics, gardening can instruct and coordinate, but art and imagination is where it all comes together. Even if I had learned nothing else from you, I would have learned that.
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