It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said 'Bother!' and 'O blow!' and also 'Hang spring-cleaning!' and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat.
------------ Kenneth Grahame
Monday, April 04, 2011
Oviduct
As eggs move down the oviduct they’re smeared with calcium gel; before they can be untucked they will be sealed with shell. A hermetic, airless nativity: all birds are born in captivity.
:) I like it. Sometimes our chickens lay eggs with no shells - but all held together still with that membrane inside that makes your average hard-boiled one easy to peel if you can just get under it right.
This tiny bit of prose caught my attention, and one of the first reactions I had to it was that if "all birds are born in captivity" then perhaps it's also true that "all humans are born in captivity", although ours is not a thin protective shell, but rather, that we are contained within the constraints of what we can experience or imagine.
I'd like to think that we can break free from this constraint by opening ourselves to an existence without limits, but this brings me back to an image of humans pushing against the binding shell of our understanding of the world; of the universe. We struggle and twist every which way, in an effort to be free.
I'm not usually a poetry person, although, to be honest, when I find one that speaks to me, I'm aggressively appreciative.
Thanks for stretching my brain this morning. Your words opened something that was closed before. Perhaps a speck of recognition has infiltrated my armorous shell.
6 comments:
Hey, it's a poem. It rhymes. Leave me alone.
:) I like it. Sometimes our chickens lay eggs with no shells - but all held together still with that membrane inside that makes your average hard-boiled one easy to peel if you can just get under it right.
Wow, really? I've never heard of that!
xox Love it, I do, this beautiful balanced construct, an egg.
This tiny bit of prose caught my attention, and one of the first reactions I had to it was that if "all birds are born in captivity" then perhaps it's also true that "all humans are born in captivity", although ours is not a thin protective shell, but rather, that we are contained within the constraints of what we can experience or imagine.
I'd like to think that we can break free from this constraint by opening ourselves to an existence without limits, but this brings me back to an image of humans pushing against the binding shell of our understanding of the world; of the universe. We struggle and twist every which way, in an effort to be free.
I'm not usually a poetry person, although, to be honest, when I find one that speaks to me, I'm aggressively appreciative.
Thanks for stretching my brain this morning. Your words opened something that was closed before. Perhaps a speck of recognition has infiltrated my armorous shell.
xoxo
Thanks Nancy. It's so lovely to see you again!
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