Friday, February 13, 2015

And To Teach Them Their Proper Places, God Put Smiles Upon Their Faces

Sitting in a lobby,
waiting to meet somebody,
somebody large and unknown, 
I suddenly started doodling
chaotic squiggles, zig-zags, lines,
simple organisms without spines,
jiggling and spreading all over the place
but really going nowhere.

I tapped my pencil three times and
eyeballs popped up in a blank space.
A small circle appeared, signifying a nose,
and now I draw a line, a mouth, curved into a smile.

I pause to peer into the black-dot eyes.
Despite their roughness, their disproportionate size,
those eyes look desperately toward the skies
and catch a blurry vision of me.  

Now he speaks: “Thank you 
for drawing my eyes, so I may behold you, my Maker.
Finally I see the One Who Wields Both Pen and Paper!”

Next he says, “I’m bored. And you drew me all wrong.
I would have preferred non-existence!”

There’s nothing I can say to him now, and anyhow,
I’m busy breathing life into the nostrils
of a million more faces, placing smiles on their lips. 
This is my attempt to communicate,
to place in them something innate,
to say that Joy is their natural state.