Tenuous at best
This equilibrium I find myself clinging to.
Dangling from the earth by my cranium.
Watching as others, like birds must see fish,
flail about the universe,
feet bound to the firmament above us.
For us
it resembles suffocating
or haphazard design.
Unable to fathom the sensation of the skull
flopping about deleteriously.
As though hanging their brains as bait and net
to whatever hazards might glide below.
Yet, these impressions
would be invisible to the thinking mind, forgotten.
And ours pondered over as a peculiar mystery
born of some untamed imagination.
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
Tenuous at best
This equilibrium I find myself clinging to.
Dangling from the earth by my cranium.
Watching as others, like birds must see fish,
flail about the universe,
feet bound to the firmament above us.
For us
it resembles suffocating
or haphazard design.
Unable to fathom the sensation of the skull
flopping about deleteriously.
As though hanging their brains as bait and net
to whatever hazards might glide below.
Yet, these impressions
would be invisible to the thinking mind, forgotten.
And ours pondered over as a peculiar mystery
born of some untamed imagination.
This poem is written from the perspective of a being who lives in the world with the earth above them and the sky below.
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