August 25–31 ❘ Intelligence

Intelligence

In my mind, this sunset seems to melt
in a puddle of passion, entwined
with the skyline as it blushes pink.

In reality, the sun is 93 million miles away,
blasting through an earthly atmosphere
that cannot register embarrassment.

I am a tiny speck trapped here,
a next-to-nothing body confined
to a far-flung, water-drop planet,

yet I can read faint lines scratched on paper
and by them understand thoughts and acts
performed two-thousand years before my birth.

I can catch insubstantial syllables on air
and through them grieve at someone’s suffering
or ride another’s joy heavenward,

and though sun and sky are not aware
of me below their glowing pas de deux—
though they are not even aware of themselves—

I am aware of them. Tonight,
I imagine they are in love,
blossoming in wistful embrace.

• Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry

• Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com