You Are Spatial

I felt out of order. ‘Fraid that I had disappeared.

I was in need of affirmation- confirmation that I’m here.

I searched for bare essentials- self-concepts I could grasp.

As I tallied my credentials, a vision made me gasp.

 

She’d been lowered, seated, on a trapeze from the sky.

This angel then swung forward, fairly even with my eye.

She said, “I have an answer for the question that is nigh.

It will ease your mind. You’ll understand that it’s no lie.”

 

“You are spatial. You occupy a space.

You are spatial. I can’t answer for the place.

The past tense of ‘spit’, then add the letters ‘I-A-L’.

You take up space, you’re spatial, and you have some mass as well.”

 

Her style was a bit like that of Isadora Duncan.

She held a magic wand, a shame I didn’t have a pumpkin.

This existential angel eased my mind with that one word.

She encompassed my existence with the syllables I heard.

 

“Spatial. To everyone and me.

You define space, you’re spatial, thus a part of gravity.

Whether you are walking, or stillish you remain.

You are not just present, you can still opt to abstain.”

 

“You are spatial. You really are some thing.

You are spatial. You make dimension spring.

Kiss the air, and then exhale, you’ve gone and said the word.

I’m here to say: ‘You’re spatial’. Bounds define you in this world.”

 

 “Don’t let anybody say you don’t take up some room.

You inhabit it, you’re adequate, in each direction through.

Finally, I’ll mention, in your bid to occupy.

The volume you inhabit is sufficient for your size.”

 

She smiled beatifically, and waved her wand with grace.

She tugged the rigging twice. She, it began to raise.

She nodded a goodbye as she commenced to rise.

As she ascended uply, going heavenward, she cried:

 

“You are spatial!” She made her vertical exeunt.

“We all have space to fill, your own part is un-moot.

But, everything is spatial. Indeed, all bets are off.

I’ll wrap up the lecture while I’m being tugged aloft.”

 

“You are spatial. The winch can crank, for I have spoken.

You are spatial. I really hope the thing ain’t broken.

You are spatial. If you please, I’ll say at last-

You are spatial. And this trapeze is wearing on the ass.”

 

Spatially I watched this fine, confirming sprite,

as spatially she rose, enveloped by the dusky night.

Spatially I watched her sucked into a spatial cloud.

Her benediction rung so clear, but neither was it loud:

 

“You are spatial. You are spatial. You are spatial! To me.”