by Cathy MacAdam
March 20, 2008
|
There were no walls Outside The ceiling did not end There was room for everyone And yet Everyone did not come Strange about walls And how we like them Is it what they keep in Or what we keep out Is it how we know where things end And start And then we know where we are too Outside Anything can happen It probably would The worst things we imagine And things we could not imagine Bad But maybe good things too That would Change us Because we would not know Where we began And where we stopped What was the same |
And what was not How would I know That I was not you And you were not me What was mine And what was not How could I tell The measurements Of what I know and what I believe And if you are okay And if you are not How would I know Without the walls How would I be safe If I didn’t know what safety was If there are no walls Where do you put the door? How can you know if you’re in or out And how do you know What and where belongs to you Who is the host Who is the guest What would we learn in such a place A place beyond imagining A place that I would like to know |