There come certain seasons
in our rotating perceptions
permutated with differences.
(Even perpetuity desires wonders.)
The passing of time is spatial.
Everything occupies a separate piece
of unique space. All occupation of space
creates Time. When the occupation
of a piece of space stops, time, there, stops.
(Eternity is a cessation of all times.)
One summer, that is eternal, now,
my yard teemed with Praying Mantis.
From tiny quarter inchers of greens, tans and browns,
to regal four inch jade mammoths
of ferocious supremacy and beauty.
I watched one of these consume a butterfly, alive,
in atrocious horror, and exquisite fascination.
(Unremittingly, energy is converted to occupy space.)
This summer, my yard is full of mutations.
There is the Tombstone Rose, it’s long reaching
healthy stalks are lined with squiggly stunted leaves,
while a pansy that bloomed normally for a month
now has cancerous, malformed new growth.
And a Gerbera Daisy sent forth
conjoined twins, bound from top to bottom,
which bloomed like angel wings of pink.
Permutations of flux – continuous space.
(When space reaches its periphery, Infinity will last a second.)

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Photo by Erin Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 6/9/04