Where you see a vine, I see the flight path of a pair of leaves.
Where you hear pizzicato violins, I hear all the angels of time whispering stop.
Where you pause for breath, I swallow audibly.
Where you exercise one or more rights, I give love a bad name: to wit, You.
Where you invest in gold, I save water & fingernails.
Where you climb a hill, I let my feet take me home.
Where you descend, I stare into my shoes as if they were mirrors.
Where you read Terms of Service, I read Dream at Your Own Risk.
Where you see the letter A, I see a window pretending to be a door.
attitude is really everything…nice, Dave
Look at those powerful ironies! They are prompting a storm of responses in my brain. Bravo, Dave. And thanks.
Well, there is the other option. Get married and argue for the rest of your lives. Trouble is, I see myself equally represented on both sides of the yin yang poem. (grin)
Taken politically.. this might be a metaphor for congress. Arrrrgh!
Seriously..I enjoyed this poem immensely. One hopes for a melding of views somehow…
Where you see a vine, I see the flight path of a pair of leaves.
WHAT MEANING MEANS
Giving up on giving up is a better choice,
when being sensible and clear are futile.
Words would lose meaning, ours will not.
Where you see a vine leading its tendrils
up to a broken branch shedding a last leaf,
you make me see its undulant plummet
to the parched pond mottled by blackened
and brittle leaves long dead even before
the end of this long hot summer. It is real.
Is this not our faultless way of knowing
what we pretend to know when we can
no longer see the dancer from the dance?
Would not the falling of that lonely leaf
trace the slower climb of a clinging vine?
Like seeing both sides of the wall at once.
—Albert B. Casuga
08-07-11