It is a far wish, a spring wish,
and so the people of the parade let go of
balloons they dreamt were their minds,
not the minds they woke to find writhing in the gravel,
but rising tangerine minds, porcelain white, blue
of sky in which to be absolutely lost.
So much pleasure I remember
when mine slipped from sight
but could be imagined almost perfectly and gone,
warm on the string where I’d held it.
In the moment. Live it fully.
“The eye is the first circle; the horizon which it forms is the second; and throughout nature this primary figure is repeated without end. It is the highest emblem in the cipher of the world.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson
It began with the sun. Then the eye. Craters on the moon. The wheel. The…