In the odd world of the quantum, things appear to exist in a multitude of states — describable only as the set of probabilities known as a wave function — until tipped into a definite outcome by an act of "measurement."
... the absolute flight and rest
The universal blue
And local green suggest.
- Robert Frost
I am floating or falling. I am light
as a feather, or even my thumbprint
fills the sky. The water near shore
shines silver on a cold Spring day.
A helicopter punctuates the air
and I imagine, further out, there are fish
drifting mindlessly in subtle currents
deeper than green goes. Fish made from atoms
streamed and condensed to the hard steel bliss
of shape; fish
of whose precise location
I am dreamily uncertain.
I imagine the bends: how pain swoops
to painlessness the way smack takes you
away from yourself. Vertigo. I feel bubbles
of nitrogen fizz distantly in my cool toes.
I imagine fins, or changes in current
surmised, in the dark, as fins.
Yet the heat in my head and the light
on my eyes are the same blue day's
convergence. This is a miracle of sorts,
a fleeting miracle between horizons.
The same blue day, one world below
and one above and one world here and now.
I am a wooden boat.
From the wooden deck of me
my anchor drops away
to sound the fathomless sea.
The mossy chain gains speed
uncurling through my hands.
On the wooden deck of me
I stand between two lands
and neither made of land:
the lands of sky and sea.
Deep in the wind my kite
It reaches far away —
this kite is quite a thing;
and yet I touch the sky
because I touch this string.
And touch the ocean floor,
that ache of dull content.
But the wooden deck of me
is the place of measurement.
William Henry Davies or W. H. Davies (3 July 1871 – 26 September 1940) was a Welsh poet and writer. Davies spent a significant part of his life as a tramp or hobo, in the United Kingdom and United States, but became one of the most popular poets of his time. The principal themes in his work are observations about life's hardships, the ways in which the human condition is reflected in nature, his own tramping adventures and the various characters he met. Davies is usually considered one of the Georgian Poets, although much of his work is atypical of... Read more...
Enid Derham was an Australian poet and academic.
Derham was born in Hawthorn, Melbourne, Victoria, the eldest daughter of Thomas Plumley Derham, solicitor, and his wife Ellen Hyde, née Hodgson, of Melbourne. Derham was educated at Hessle College, Camberwell, then at Presbyterian Ladies' College and the University of Melbourne....
It might be lonelier
Without the Loneliness—
I'm so accustomed to my Fate—
Perhaps the Other—Peace—
Would interrupt the Dark—
And crowd the little Room—
Too scant—by Cubits—to contain
The Sacrament—of Him—
I am not used to Hope—
It might intrude upon—