Friday, July 6, 2007

Reverie on the Principle of Equivalence

Dry under my porch, I lean against a weathered wooden table, drinking coffee and watching a steady rain.

As I look out toward the mountains, the scene reinterprets itself. The table, my house, the mountains: all of us hurtle upwards, rising faster and faster into the sky, splashing our way through a motionless mist.

Might I only slow, and stop, and find myself among sparkling constellations, each round suspended droplet spinning slowly like a liquid star.

Still gaining speed, I set down my cup, which now seems heavy as it pins the saucer to the table.

How long can we keep climbing like this?