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
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