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Nature is Space (excerpt)
Nature is space, from
here to over there.
It's the airy in-between
through which we pass
to arrive at something.
It's wandering from the
bedroom to find coffee
and the morning paper,
it's the train commute to
the other end of the line,
it's pushing open a door.
It's everywhere we go,
fly, swim, dance, crawl
and fall — and what we
evade, sit on, step over.
We avoid walls and
the edges of cliffs.
We're skilled experts,
dancers in a maze
of choreography,
getting around. We
learn to know truth
and our trust rises to
a belief — no matter what
else we may say we
believe in, our actions
pledge allegiance to
our true belief: Nature.
We worship our corner of it
in unceremonious practice
every time we start the car,
board a jet, ride an
elevator, or escape
falling down the stairs.
By gravity we're stuck
to the surface of an
orbiting spherical satellite
of a hydrogen-fusion star
floating in a space vacuum,
just as sure as we pour
milk on our cereal.
Nature is space, our cradle.
Our mystery, our evolution,
our only heaven.
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