We sit & stare across the line, we stare & sit across the line
Our words drawn as sacred weapons, our symbols drawn as ancient hexes,
Ever at the ready should the need
For our defense or quick attack arise.
This worthy line the boundary marks, its cursed edge our limits,
Unblurred & razor sharp, it forms a cruel & hardened knife;
We know its breadth & height & length,
Its size & shape & form are known,
For it is ours and ours alone,
For it has kept us here.
Our palaces & cities we have built, great wondrous sites
We have placed along its separating cleft;
And many, many watchful nights we spend guarding
Lest the line, in moving, be crossed.
It clearly illustrates the limits, the boundary,
Defines & enslaves us with its reach.
There is no question that the line
Cannot resolve by its presence –
Bringing pain & sorrow.
Sometimes, we sit & wonder, staring,
Our eyes unblinking across the line,
Checking for movement,
Ever at the ready should the need
Outweigh superstitious caution, and offense arise.
This blessed line the crossing marks, its worthy form the boundary,
Its edge as straight & true as time, unblurred & razor sharp.
We know its breadth & height & length,
Its size & shape & form are known –
We have had time to measure it,
For neither we nor it have moved.
We watch each palace & great city built
Against this separating cleft,
And for many watchful years have hoped,
In vain, for the line to blur.
It clearly illustrates a boundary, our limits,
And enables us to dream beyond while defining us in its reach.
There is not question that has not been answered,
Save one:
If we should all blink at once, on one side or the other,
would it move?
05 OCT 1999
