Instead of dread

Bobby Rose King

Have you stared at the empty blue,
on your back, in a field
cradled by dirt and earthworms, cushioned by grass,
at the richness and depth and clarity of this entity
pouring in through your eyes,
filling you up. 
Have you looked so long
that floaties begin to dance
in a halo around your face?
An iridescent bubble swirling,
obscuring that abundance
that moments before seemed
to be all you’d ever need to see. 
Suddenly, it’s
overlaid by lines and dots and loops and filaments
that shift and slide as you stare, as if you are
swimming through a viscous fluid.
Their movement, a scrim
separating you from the world. 
Have you watched the sky intently,
instead of dreading whatever you’re dreading?
Have you accepted that you will fail?
That you are certainly pathetic, ridiculous, fragile, and riddled with folly,
like every other living thing,
except, maybe the dignified grass.
Although grass too, is manicured and shorn and poisoned and downtrodden.
And persistent. 

The Science

This poem was written and submitted in the place of a Modern Physics Problem Set. It was originally titled 'A poem instead.' (Instead of the problem set), as an invitation to delight in mystery. It is meant to remind the reader/writer why we study science - the pleasures of paying attention, noticing: colours, shapes, patterns, light, temperature, and what happens when we encounter failure. When failure drains all gumption, where is the impetus to study? Where is the spring of curiosity? I find it in the quiet stillness of observation of smallness and largeness. Patiently paying attention, until questions bubble to the surface, and eventually, I boil over with wonder, and continue with research.

The Poet

Bobby King is currently studying physics and dance at Bard College. Her interests include laughter, colour, movement, and change. She is an avid puzzler and connoisseur of human folly. Her other writing can be found at blobsblog.com, where she writes under the name ‘The Blob’.

Next poem: Mendel's Prayer by Angie Lo