Like Lightning Captured in a Bottle
like lightning captured in a bottle
maybe it was the hurricane,
a twister of a tornado, all water, an element yet not
the elements of atmosphere, rounded ways of saying
this the plastic hull, the world, the device, the keeper
here are the mouths, married, combined with gray electric tape
the eclectic mix of a diet Dr. Pepper and the most
distinguished Fresca, label poorly peeled away
and not forgotten, but clear enough to see
a fasimile, suppose this is forevermore reality,
and thus watch, the creation doth tremble,
the tepid, still body of water is transformed,
the world flips upside down, a shake perhaps,
an earthquake without earth or Mother Nature's quake,
the creator is not a magician nor a god, but
merely a spectator with keen eyes,
and there, like lightning,
or perhaps a hurricane,
the weather controlled
and the storm settles down.
Swirling to the bottom, as time itself stops,
there is nothing spoken, save a breathless
"Do it again."
redefining the universe
he will explain.
he will explain that the universe
in blades of grass
and every blade is the same
and every detail is just a
shade of unremarkable,
a slight twist and it's
a previous day he hadn't said
the universe is most mysterious
and none can know its secrets.
one day he'll tell her: you don't. You can't.
she doesn't understand him and she never will.
He'll love her all the same.
he'll have everything
and it still won't be worth what he will lose.
one day he's going to die
like fragile realities
he turned upside down
captured in bottles
and it would not be wrong;
a sweet revenge of the universe,
the words do not matter,
and the universe screams
he will be silent
cast in the bottle
and he will die.