Round

natures roundness

Round

Rain is falling
not too fast
not too slow
splashing the lake with giggly droplets
on my window, drops collide with soft edges
no squares or rectangles
nature loves itself in the round

While we humans separate ourselves by boxes
of harsh, angled equations
with surveys and plats
and life defined by measures and rules
nature never asks for such definition
instead in comes in cycles and variants
and seeds and roots
flowers bloom from lovely folds
snowflakes on a hand melt into drops
even in harshest terms
nature bombards in the round
from the convection and vortex
to hail and meteorites
the sunlight and stars
moon and planets
rotate on an ellipsis

And in our human skin
we begin as cell ovate,
our blood swimming with platelets 
man evolved folded into a  rounded womb
stood upright in the second half of the Cenozoic era
as if the age of hard-edged aggression had begun
with lines unbending
unyielding
minds producing hard thought
making weaponry
machinery
things so opposite and contrary to nature

The lake is passive for now
the rain has stopped
soft bulks of gray clouds float past
the lily pads ride smoothly atop the water
fallen leaves sail with curled edges
even the round mouths of fish
leave concentric circle kisses
mirror of Florida portrait upon still water
I think of David Hockney’s “A Bigger Splash”
where the water is an oddity among straight line

Tree trunks blur under thick green canopies
gardenia’s white flowers steam their lusty scent
through thick swollen air 
As I intrude upon this quiet enchantment
with wide brown orbs taking it all in
I wonder-
is this why
we humans
can call ourselves well rounded…
     Abbe A