Creation of the World
You know it from the way your own heart moves
when the heavens open: that first morning, too, it was raining
as the souls collected themselves-
they wanted things they didn’t know a word for,
to be deciduous, or matronly, or ectoskeletal.
They had their reasons,
coming as they did out of the sameness
and freedom of the air: constant promise of renewal,
desire to deliver, dislike of fur. They flew into a frenzy
as the better lives were taken.
All of them were eager for a body
and for a wide variety of names: crown vetch,
axseed, coronilla varia. Such pretty pink and white!
Imagine how it looked
coming alive, swelling with intention,
the joyous and the bitter souls
weighing anything at all’s so different from the spirit form,
so limited: all roots, all lungs….
Ivy climbing walls, gulls trapped inside the ozone,
even cheetahs running hard are finally spent.
What they found was what they’d given up.
Now: the flesh, the rain, the nature of regret.
- Sally Ball, Annus Mirabilis