DISSECTING A BALL

First come the stitches
Red splashed on white
Even lines displayed
In and out, in and out.

Marking and remarking
Unmistakable lines in snow
Milataristically drawn patterns
All lined up in neat rows

Next, holding all inside
Next, comes the skin
A shell from a dead creature
Encasing the chaos within

All is calm on the surface
A perfectly rounded sphere
All life long since departed
Upon an unknown, unmarked bier

Then comes the string
All twisted, all intertwining
Held together by tension
From its own inner binding

Grey tinged with pink
Strings of never ending length
Expand as they are coaxed
From the core, all dark and dank

The core at the very center
Is hard, dark and shiny
Reflecting light away
To protect and to stymie

It doesn’t bounce at all
It just hides down deep inside
A kernel of such density
There is nothing inside the inside

The ball is split wide open
There is little left to reveal
Can it be put back together
Inside that tiny seal?

No! And why should we want to?
The ball lies splayed and opened
Its innermost parts laid wide
Some would say it is broken

But why, oh why, oh why?
Balls have but only one use
All defined, all ruled, all regulated
How can we be so obtuse?

Laid before us is chaos
Infinite possibilities in store
Infinite combinations and connections
Infinity is what we yearn for

And

Infinity but lies within

By cindy
5/13/2021