Somewhere in the Middle
I wanted to know, or at least to believe
that I knew, or at least to feel as if I knew.
So I searched through the vast emptiness
that stretched overhead and in every other direction,
through the pins of old light that remind us of distance,
through the wisps of vapor huddled together,
drifting across the sky, gathering until it was time
to return to the earth to grace the heads of the
grateful and ungrateful alike.
There was no sorrow in the empty streets with
their pale lights, nor was there joy or any of
those other fleeting human emotions, just
a tranquil chill that my heart tried and failed to mimic.
There were moments here, crystallized in the
ghostly cones of light, in the refuse that could
occasionally be found abandoned on the sides
of the road. The world suffered not the twang
of heart-strings, its disinterested, ceaseless flow of
energy a distinct, if not somewhat contradictory
reminder of constancy.
Would I know beauty’s face when it stared into mine?
Nature seemed a mess of contradiction, a beauty that
found its perfection in its imperfection, in the way
it sprawled across the earth without the art of rhyme
nor the precision of reason, only a detached poetry
written in moments for the restless eye or the twitching ear.
Beautiful in life, beautiful in death, beautiful in the circle
which united life and death, beautiful in the realization
that there was no life and death, just an eternal flow
of energy, come full round in spirals. Who can say that
they know what beauty is when it has so many forms?
Who can say that they do not know what beauty is when
it has so many forms?
An old itch was beginning to form, a memory of the idea
that knowledge rarely brought anyone any real happiness.
So I felt with my head and thought with my heart, and my soul
remained in its place, the world flipped upside down. Perhaps
there is no down nor up, just the feeling of things being the way
they should be. The universe was vast in its completion,
miniscule in its particulars, and I was left standing somewhere
in the middle of it all, precisely in a position to marvel at it all,
precisely in a place to admire the beauty of not knowing,
precisely where I should be.