Is every day the same day
As seen through different eyes?
Is it my awakening, say,
That shuffles then identifies?
What’s the likelihood of this date
Becoming itself discrete?
Tumbling through the keeper’s gate
On its way to complete:
. Different in name – but familiar,
. If not the same – at least similar.
19 October 2010
To the reader: Ponderous thoughts demand no answer! They’re posed as playful, quizzical, metaphysical; far from pointless but vaguely meaningful. How different is one day from the next and does that difference mean much in the bigger scheme of things? Courtesy of a rotating planet, and our fixed location, diurnal patterns turn us on and off. Locally, we share the same day but globally we create billions of variations on that theme. Humanity has no day … humans do.
To the poet: Three questions tumble to the page with the dynamics of dice; tossed and skittled. The order doesn’t matter. The shape and structure of poetry can be used to reinforce its message. In this case the theme is ‘familiar but similar’ (almost but not quite the same). And so, the last stanza does just that; plays with slight variation. When does a hyphen become a dash?