Vijaya Sundaram

Poet, Musician, Teacher, and Amateur Visual Artist

To a Spider

To a Spider
©February 10th, 2016

By Vijaya Sundaram

With eight eyes, what do you see?
The universe is an octagonal thing.
And all the sounds of it must be
Octaves of sensation!
Do you see eight worlds?

(Allow me my fancies.)

With delicate, eight-legged gait,
You, a creature from another world,
Inhabit the same physical one as I do.
Do you compute in base eight?
And those perfect eight-pointed webs —
How do you calculate them?

(I do wonder at you.)

So many perceptions,
So many perspectives!
So many pensive hours, patiently
Spinning a web, perfectly woven.

(I wish I could love you).

And some shriek in terror
When you swing down, delicately
Putting out your bridges
From one world to the next.

(I do admire you.)

And yet, we don’t hesitate to sweep
Away you and your children,
All that work, aeons for you
In the making of your home,
Gone, gone in a whoosh of vacuum
Or a swish of broom.

(With only two eyes, we don’t see.)

Do you consider us?
Do you fear us?
Do you note us
As living beings?
Or, are we magnified
Monsters from a nightmare
Advancing towards you,
As you scurry to hide?

(Forgive us our trespasses.)

I am
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.

_________________________________

 

 

 

 

Perspectives

Perspectives

©May 15th, 2014

By Vijaya Sundaram

Doors are good,

But there are so few of them

Windows, on the other hand,

Draw me like a magnet.

 

Windows keep the wind out

Wind down our day,

When we shut them.

Windows tantalize,

Holding out a view

A promise of something,

Which, if we chose, we could

Climb out, fly out,

And claim.

 

Looking out, we see dogs run,

Children play, cars rush on,

Stray bags on aircurrents.

 

We see flowers unfold petals,

And birds unfurl wings,

And our vision takes flight.

 

Or, perhaps, we don’t see.

Perhaps, we see blankness.

Where a brick wall faces our window.

 

We see a fire escape,

A bored pigeon, 

Pedestrian and dreary.

 

Or, maybe, schoolboys

Smoking pot, or drunks in

Stumbling stupor.

 

Perhaps, our windows trap

Pockets of madness,

Of sadness, of despair.

 

Perhaps our windows are

Simply painted on, faking

A word that doesn’t exist.

 

But doors, now.

Ah, doors are good.

 

Hinging on promises, symbols,

Giving us sweet metaphors,

Making portals, pathways

Into other worlds, they flash

Glimpses of secrets which swirl

Into other more mysterious ones,

Perhaps to another, darker,

Gnarlier, older universe.

 

Or, perhaps they give

Us an out, a means to escape,

Even if for a little.

 

Every doorway has its

Secret Mezuzah, its blessings

Keeping out danger,

Locking in peace.

 

But what if the danger

Were within?

Would the mezuzah be

A Möbius loop?

 

If I had my way,

I’d have my door close

To my window, and

Make one work as well

As the other.

 

It’s all a matter

Of perceptions, perspectives

Of a frame, after all.

 

That which is framed

Is good, named, tamed.

 

And then, when we step out,

The world, dense and hungry,

Advances, intent, angry,

Rears its massive head, and

Swallows us whole.