GRAVITY WORKS ALL THE TIME
Limits and boundaries are a drag. I hate feeling tied to the ground. I know I could fly if not for unseen forces. I sense myself lightening, smoothing, I drop my burdens; I pick up speed. Fourth dimension! Hell! I’m proverbial vapor trails. At this time I should explain. When I get moving this fast, I inevitably wind myself into a position where my head is up my in my nether regions, a place it does not belong.
I have slowly grown to love my limits; no restraint holds me back. In reality, I am supported, rooted as it were. I am not a hydroponic. I can live in the real world. I am me. Encouraged by the wind and the rain, I am not the hot house flower. I am truly free. I can walk where I was born to walk. I forget life has not been found outside my little world, and when it is, I’m still better off being me.
Introduce yourself to a new vegetable.
Spectacles are for specks;
tiny things that must be watched.
Commotion is nothing but a congregation
of minutia with an audience.
How many small things
do I strain my eyes to see;
then seek help to pursue further?
Some of these are put on display fishing for voyeurs.
Others are secreted away
only to be ferreted out through magnification.
Whether curiosity or contempt drives me
to these pinpoints I must search my motives
before I scan the plain.
For truly if I am not careful
I, myself will end up either speck or spectacle.