In 1491 there lived
a boy, his name Copernicus.
He changed his mind for all of us
My god, where are you now?

By thinking he moved all of us,
The moon, the sun, Copernicus
The church, the gods, Copernicus!
The days the earth stood still.

For is it that the
Sun lies not above us
but below us, dear Copernicus…?
And would you claim the Earth is
not the center of the universe?

[...]

Copernicus, Copernicus!
Can you not feel him, watching us?
Beseeching us, imploring us:
My god, where are you now?

I wonder what I would put inside this package
Simple things perhaps, which at moments I know I’ll need
Like bandaids, rubber bands, and papers and pencils
A note with some writing on it, saying “don’t take yourself too seriously”

Colors, emotions, and nuances might fade with time
So I will have to pack them up into words, drawings, and music
Music that reminds me what passion feels like

I wonder what my kit would look like
It could be a metal box with a lid
Or a piece of paper
A brown paper bag, or an investor’s suitcase
Something to hold all my wildest dreams, and most solemn plans
To take anywhere and everywhere

Or maybe
It would be a tiny seed
A great truth, a burning flame
That when planted will grow and expand and change shapes
As I do

It would grow limbs, branches and leaves-
Permutations and tiny variations of every path across time
And a trunk anchored into the deepest wholes and creations
And it would breathe the air just like I do
Whereas I exhale carbon dioxide, it would take it in
It’s height would make the sky seem taller

And that would be enough
For any moment
For any dream
I can open up my kit
And find what I need.

Once I had built my kit
My kit in a day
Then
I would throw it away
Because then I wouldn’t need it anymore.

I’ve had these things with me all along.

As this moment passes

We will grow old.
We will lose hope.
We will have to ask for forgiveness.

We will find ourselves in our parents’ shoes.
And someday in our grandparents’ shoes.
And we will wonder
If we did the right thing.

Yet never forget

This moment of possibility:
Never forget
That we have two eyes, two legs to stand on.
Never forget
That this moment is ours to create.

We could change the future and make history
This time to never forget
The living hopes and dreams that shaped today.

And to never forget
That life goes around in circles
This is our turn.

Is there now?
Now there is.
Now is there?

This little poem sprang into my mind one night a few years ago, just out of the blue. Just three words, three orders, and reversed. But is it more than just wordplay? I continue to ponder what it means… and how it can have meaning.