IMAGINARY LINES

Imaginary Lines

Travel east or west far and fast enough 

You lose or gain an imaginary hour of time,

My bushes divide the piece of earth I claim to own

From the soil my neighbor waters,

Which side of this fence do I maintain?

As Frost remarked,

Walls keep things both in and out,

My view is narrowed and confined 

By my need to define and defend

What is mine

From what is yours.

We will not share this earth,

Instead greed tears it limb from limb,

Fear rapes it

For all it’s worth, for all it’s worth.

Down and down we divide the whole;

The Earth made into continents,

Then countries, states, cities,

Neighborhoods,

Then homes and,

Then the homeless.

Longitudes and latitudes,

Languages and customs, rules,

rights and wrongs.

Seattle said,

The earth does not belong to us-

We belong to the earth.

By pretending to own our meager pieces

Of this cosmic miracle,

This regenerating manna-

we have shrunk ourselves needlessly.

Who am I really?

To what small portion of reality

Do I pledge my allegiance to?

I have forgotten

That these imaginary lines are 

Imaginary.

I made them up

To secure for myself a sense of order and control.

I can organize and talk about things I do not understand

As if I understand them,

And in this illusionary language

That we have all agreed upon to use

And believe in, 

We can converse and understand completely 

One another’s delusions. 

Where exactly do you begin and I end?

Is this skin that separates us

From the earth, the wind

And each other,

Any more real

Than the fence turning to dust 

Between my neighbor’s yard

And my own?

I breathe the molecule of oxygen exhaled by 

A Chinaman 200 years ago..

The sweat from my brow

Will rain upon your granddaughter’s garden

100 years from now…

We are so much closer than we know,

Would you close your door, 

Withhold food from your brother?

What if 

I am your brother?

What if there really are no strangers?

What if enough is enough?