Then Greenness Disintegrates






Where does greenness come from?

The question gives rise to the Look.


Observe the forest’s deepgreen matte

free of all sparkle and glisten,

purest of emerald’s shimmering velvet facets:

tranquil, hopeful, vulnerable.

Listen:

somewhere inside lies a particle of truth,

pure uncluttered and strong.


Look into that seeming, mundane form,

zoom in through grainy atmospheres,

drop through microorbits where slimy cells swarm,

plunge senses and lenses and probes to the heart,

get at the essence of Deep Green!


Entranced, you'll forget who you are.

Amazed by the alienness of your paling plight

and the tangled venous geometry of glassy sedge,

of innards and gizzards of Escherian walls,

of mushy fields and ridges of crystal hedge.

you’ll sink as you wade, and perhaps your eye will fall

on the spectral bleeding of that fading velvet light

at the corners of your eyes…

Too late!

Now not whence does it come? but where does it go?


Then greenness disintegrates and its beauty disappears.

I think that a fairy breathes it in

to a subsubsubatomic melange

in the cave of the sacred quarks,

to a mythical strange and charmed state

wrapped in a quantum quirk.

No matter.

No photons.

No ideons.


I think a fairy breathes it in.

Copyright ©  Peter Twohig. All rights reserved.