A Momentary Moment
The sodden silverfish floating supine
atop sugar water in the hummingbird feeder
did not die doing what it loved,
no matter how much fun it is to say so,
nor even what it wanted to do,
but was led, no doubt, to do what it does
by some neural current. I suppose.
Being ever in being, we can never fix
being’s momentary meanings.
A tiny black spider whose abdomen
shines like an exquisite onyx
races across a huge centipede
that curls then uncurls, opens and shuts,
looking for a chink in the armor.
Twisting in its silver bonds, this centipede
does not feel the love. Yet even there
at an end, it is there. What a curse,
this gift of it. All eight eyes, like black pearls
gleaming too small for my eyes to see,
see me and stop still in mid scurry
to watch me with all their might
watch them. While only I think for what
I think cannot think but only knows
what is there just when it’s there.
atop sugar water in the hummingbird feeder
did not die doing what it loved,
no matter how much fun it is to say so,
nor even what it wanted to do,
but was led, no doubt, to do what it does
by some neural current. I suppose.
Being ever in being, we can never fix
being’s momentary meanings.
A tiny black spider whose abdomen
shines like an exquisite onyx
races across a huge centipede
that curls then uncurls, opens and shuts,
looking for a chink in the armor.
Twisting in its silver bonds, this centipede
does not feel the love. Yet even there
at an end, it is there. What a curse,
this gift of it. All eight eyes, like black pearls
gleaming too small for my eyes to see,
see me and stop still in mid scurry
to watch me with all their might
watch them. While only I think for what
I think cannot think but only knows
what is there just when it’s there.
