The World is Flat
The World Is Flat
By Muriel Palanca
The best part was the moment the
Line between restraint and wishful thinking
Became something like spider silk before the sun dried up the rain. A
Blurry boundary where my innocence could trespass
Between blank space and sturdy binding.
What is the wonder keeping the stars from colliding? I never knew.
Is it the same force making us
Real or was it just the street lamp drenching us in haze?
And what about love? Why does it
Make a dreamer who’s condemned to
Believe in the impossible, the improbable, the one and a better day? Who else
But a liar can see the truth most clearly and ignore it just the same?
If I could write a symphony from certainty
By mixing love notes, fragile hope and a first impression, I’d take a
Chance on double zero because I never really learned my lesson.
This is why the world is flat. I need a
Dream to be somewhere beyond the things I see.
Will you take me to the edge and pull me back? The fall was
Never kind when I reached the bottom, so it’s best if I stay right here. I’ll
Be next to you at the bus stop, waiting for something
More to surpass my expectations. Waiting for something better
Than another ordinary day. Waiting for
An answer to why we want what we can’t have. Can an
Illusion be enough to keep you warm at night?
Please tell me I’m wrong because I’m almost never right.
Wake me from my fantasy and shake
Me from my reverie. I’ve given
Up on romantic delusions and a childish state of mind. I remain
So close to what I always wanted, but I always get left behind. Yet,
I believe there is an end to every circle. I believe I
Can almost touch the moon if I stand on my toes and stretch my fingers. And I believe to
Watch cars go by in silence with someone you love is made sweeter by holding their hand.
The world is flat because the
Sunrise isn’t possible unless a chariot pulls it through the sky and the
One I love is just a stranger I saw as he was passing by. The
Last thing you should know is how much I didn’t say. I know
Time can span eternities and a second is all it takes.
With umbrella in hand I’ll take my leave and with it possibilities but
You can be a part of it if you get on the bus with me.
*This is the first poem I wrote with a secret message. Read down the first word of each line and it should say: The line became blurry between what is real and make believe, but if by chance this dream will never be more than an illusion, please wake me up so I can watch the sunrise one last time with you.