FOR SUNDAY GIVEN TIME
Draw a line...
a straight line.
You realize, of course it isn't straight at all.
Given time it will bend back upon itself
and form a circle;
Split it and you'll have a spiral of a sort;
Add others and you'll create a sphere.
Your straight line shaped itself to the curvature of the earth.
So,you could have propped it up at both ends?
But - off it goes into space and bends to fit magnetic stress
from other whirls it passes.
Living itself
is like that line.
Planned to be straight; it looks straight
and yet it bends to fit reality of our world. It, too,
must live and be.
Given time, it spills back upon itself.
When mended, adjusted and revised - it is violated
by sheer weight of foreign bodies – pulls, tugs, adjustments.
Lives, too – straight lines – become circles, spheres and spirals...given time.
( a.l.m. Feb 6, 1988 )
In that era most of us talked, dreamed and planned each step of our careers in relation to some element of “space adventure.” We seem to have replaced idea of romance in both prose and poetry. I was as hard hit by the fad as any and I must have a score or more of poems touching on some form of space conjecture. Be ye, thankful I did not choose one of my longer ones to haunt you with tonight.
Andrew McCaskey amccsr@adelphia.net 12-17-06 [c-251wds]
