Stretch

THEME THURSDAY

http://themethursday.blogspot.com/2010/09/thursday-september-23-2010-stretch.html

WEEKEND WRITER'S RETREAT

http://weekendwritersretreat.blogspot.com/2010/09/thirty-fifth-retreat.html

 

STRETCH!

There we are, 'foetal', lying in bed,

With the sheet and blanket over our head.

With our breath all blah and our nose all glug

And the bedroom full of that night-time fug.

Our blood runs slowly, our heart tick-tocks

With the sluggish precision of ancient clocks.

Our mind is dull and our eyes are shut;

There's a flopsish feeling in our gut.

The morning's come but we wish we were dead.

The very idea of quitting our bed!

The sun's too bright, the day before us,

Is horribly, terribly too much for us!

We wish the tweeting birds would expire,

Falling dead from that overhead wire!

It's all to much!

*

But Nature's cure;

That's destined to put us right for sure

Is the instinct to s-t-r-e-t-c-h!

*

At first it's slow,

But a little stretch very soon will grow.

The toes will extend to the cool, cool sheet,

The heart will spry-up with a lively beat.

The arms, as they stretch will appear to lengthen!

The fingers will flex and suddenly strengthen!

New life will flow through our willing veins,

Flushing away the night's remains!

We'll have a scratch and maybe grimace

And joy will spread all over our face!

The Stretch, my friends, is Nature's way

Of preparing us for a brand new day.

*

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BIG BANG!

You were there!

And I was there!

Everything of which we are made

Was there!

Nothing has been added since the start of time.

Of course,

We could not recognise ourselves.

We were star-stuff.

We were ingredients

In a great soup.

We were being shaken and stirred.

What if we still retained a memory

Of being Big Banged!

What if we could still recall the Nothingness

In which the Everything swam!

What if we had been aware of the Silence

In the Nothing.

Our small brains demand that 'empty'

Means 'surrounded'.

A cup is only 'empty'

Because it has a shape.

'Empty nothing'

Means Nothing.

We were in it

And yet we cannot comprehend it!

Were we waiting in that Dot,

That infinitesimal speck

Which contained everything?

Was all Creation screwed up,

'Ready for off?'

Were we conscious of the fact that the

Impossible Nothing

Was going to Explode

Into the Possible?

Into trees and pigs and crossword puzzles?

A Dot.

Did it shudder?

Did it convulse?

Did it tremble at the enormity

Of it all?

BANG!

Look at us!

We're shooting stars,

We're nebulae,

We're clouds of gas!

We're light.

Light!

And the noise!

The incredible roar of it all!

It must have been quite a party!

What a pity we can't remember it!

*