As If the Earth Were Hollow

As Professors James and Lewis said, each

For a different reason, we humans always

Get it all backwards, never understand

What are our causes or our effects.

That is,

I know I am praying if I’m on my knees,

Know I am sad if I’m crying: the tears

Come first, the feelings later..

 

Perhaps, as Carl Jung knew, we see inside

Out. Perhaps we live on the inner

Surface of a hollow Earth

Where light bends to fill our vision,

Where the farther we look into our center,

The more we see, worlds, stars, galaxies,

Back to where it seems to have begun.

 

But beneath our feet is not

Unending rock, instead, another

Universe, filled with strange

Beings who live by the paradoxes

Of a looking glass through which

We see darkly.

Those strange

Beings are, in fact, our selves,

Interfacing two infinities, living

On the outside of our hollow

Sphere, not knowing who or what

We might become if we ever

Hatched, struggling out of our

Cocoons, unfolding the wings we

Perhaps were always meant to have.

 

In other words, it does not

Matter how large the universe

Is if the gods dwell not out

There, but inside here, in that

Center we can never see

All the way into, for, as all

Saints have always known,

There is no end of room. .

 

 

 

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