The Sizes and Speeds of Different Worlds

For some reason the garden didn’t grow taller than an inch high.

This may have been because the mouse family requested it,

but if so, why wasn’t the rabbit can informed?

This all changes according to your point of view.

If your eyes are only as big as the heads of map pins,

and are at the same height as an individual packet of marmalade,

then an inch high flower is just right.

A mouse suggested we all lie on the grass and gaze,

if possible, if our noses aren’t too big,

at the flowers from the angle at which they were meant to be viewed.

When we do this, I notice that my chest is opened

at this angle, twisted against the damp earth,

my guts are transposed.

I like the way it feels to spirally bend

like a dry oak leaf

so I look at the flowers with tears in my eyes

so moved to be full length against a presence

that breathes a coolness out

at this hour, this time of year.

Because I am so big

I can hardly see a mouse’s point of view

and don’t understand the fast life,

the urgency.

My desire is the same speed as the moon,

who, contrary to the rabbit’s secret belief,

is not cold and dead, but warm and alive.