Geometry Lessons
Mar 19 2011


I know the world
is not made
for justice.
I thought this, once
so much younger.
An adolescent, judging,
opening my eyes to unfairness
self-righteously outraged.
As if I was the first, for the first time ever.
Which is the self-centred belief
of every generation,
until the next
takes their place.

How evil goes unpunished,
while the humble are scorned
the deserving, unrewarded.
So there is no fearful symmetry
no entitlement, or justice.
But instead, a strict geometry
of disappointment.

Of corners cut, and angles played,
surface skimmed
the depths disdained.
Of downward spirals
that can’t be stopped,
vicious circles
in constricting knots.
Of the hard black box
that keeps us dark,
parallel lines
keeping us apart.
Of intersecting arcs
that give us hope,
aimless tangents
when we’re all alone.
And of love triangles

where no one wins,

the perfect set
for which we wish.
The matched pair

that's more the stuff of myth

than measurement.

In an ideal world
of perfect symmetry
it would all come out equal,
a balance equation
a zero-sum game.
Where you could not take
more than you give.
Where energy
is not destroyed or made
but simply shifts,
in the brief incandescence
of living.

But by now, in late middle age
I’m OK with this.
An indifferent universe
in which no one’s keeping score;
where virtue
is its own reward.