Making Sense
Suppose we’d been given no senses,
or only one. Suppose we could only see.
Would we resist time, frightened to see
nothing one day and then for forever.
How attached would we be to the surface
of experience, the colors, the faces,
this life papered in shapes. Watching
the pieces go would excite us, distance
and depth made out of brightness
and also absence. The senses allow
us to structure being around the hour
and the day. Our mind is aware
of the truth: that we invented the word
forever knowing that it is a myth.
That we will not always be here, that
here will not always be here.
That humans need time, and the senses
with which to paddle through it
and navigate, and to get lost in the water’s
response as we push and kick.
This life papered in shapes...
ReplyDeleteLovely line.
I love how this is a philosophical poem with glimmers from the senses!
ReplyDeleteYes, yes, yes! We are so on the same wavelength right now. Am currently reading A Natural History of the Senses, have you read it? It's a literary museum of the senses; you'd love it.
ReplyDelete"..distance and depth made out of brightness and also absence..." Yes! This is a lovely piece.
ReplyDeletei thought & pondered this one a great deal...... I think without senses therefore... we would be dead wouldn't we, in some metaphorical or physical way be dead? Without the ability to feel touch smell hear sing.... life is literal nothingness... existence is nothingness... which is a kind of death......hmmmmmm definite food for thought.
ReplyDeletethea.
xx
A lot of depth here, and much layering of meaning. As, for instance, in the following:
ReplyDeletedistance
and depth made out of brightness
and also absence. The senses allow
us to structure being around the hour
and the day. Our mind is aware
of the truth: that we invented the word
forever knowing that it is a myth.
I shall be back later for another read.
I'm not attached to the surface of experience, but find that others mostly are.
ReplyDeleteHannah, this made a lot of sense to me.:--)
ReplyDelete