Sunday Poem

ParallelsOur lives are parallel linesBut not in the mathematical sense,(The certainty that they will never cross)Which might be fine.But it would be our great loss.I believe in the sanctity of uncertaintyThe possibilities beyond sightWhen solids melt into a liquidityThat falls over the edges of cliffsInto warm pools that heal all wounds and riftsThe law of parallels mandates unveering rigidity,Straightness into eternity.Never to touch.Never to kiss.But in the far off darkness, the eyes adjustBegin to see where our linesStart to loosen and twistLike arborizing vinesAlive and sinuous and free,Coiling up the trunks of ancient trees.All laws break down in time.Parallels no longer equidistantVerge toward tangency, subtle as an optical trickwhere our lines collide with a soft click.Close your eyes, put your ears to the ground and listen12/9/18

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - December 9, 2018 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs