What if you could only look at the world through a small sphere?
And in the circle a tree stands in its autumn gown
One branch naked.
And the others covered in random pigments of the season.
Silhouette against the pale sapphire sky.
Oceanic movements pushing large sails between spaces of limbs
Past the lines of trees, a procession of separate shades
Coloured by fire because the sun illuminates only them
And darkens the sheltered forest,
As if to explain the concept of shadow.

And in the tree the leaves shiver,
A constant ballet with the wind.
And the energy of our star reflects to spotlight these dancers,
Blinding the audience.

But would the spectators view these organisms as alive?
Or as merely flesh of a colossal creature?
Would they see the luminous colours of the season and think of death
As humans do?

Would they wonder why one skeleton limb has lost its vibrant covering?
Will their mouths gasp in horror, bottom lip puckered and quivering at the sight
Of black migrating birds?
Who swarm this large, beautiful, breathing creature
Screeching their battle cry as one, as the audience cries, and cover ears and eyes
As a brilliant piece of flesh falls into the blue, twisting in pain, and then into nothingness
Below the circle.
And the audience descends, hiding beneath the round window
Understanding why one branch quivers naked,
Refusing to look back at the world overflowing with tremendous cruelty and death.

10/19/2005