The oak table is heavy <br />But I am more the immovable object <br />Trapped by my own stubborn resistance <br />And fear of crossing an imaginary line <br />Separating my minute universe <br />From the unphantomable Infinite <br /> <br />The sparse energy <br />I expend while just resting <br />My puny hand upon the table top <br />Is drawn from the same wellspring tap <br />That fires the birth of stars <br />And set the Spheres spinning <br />Through infinite Space <br /> <br />No doubt the table and I <br />Share a common heritage <br />We are born of star stuff <br />And this same dust <br />Will one day again <br />Find its way swirling <br />Out to rejoin <br />That inconceivable energy <br />From whence it <br />Was born <br /> <br />Could I but understand <br />Overcome any fear <br />Make the connection <br />How easily my hand <br />Would slip through <br />That table top <br />Someday I know our individual <br />Essential star stuff will merge <br />But I resent the waiting<br /><br />Mary Havran<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/table-poem-3-my-star-sibling-the-table-top/
