Empty theories

“Your now is not your forever.”

― John Green, Turtles All the Way Down

In theory, the world is perfect.

Lines are straight.

Trees are regular and unbroken.

The sky is even.

A hummingbird is insignificant in the mighty blue canvas.

—

The world is filled with glorious imperfections.

Lines swirl in circles and swallow our theories.

Trees are jagged and rough with exhaustion.

The sky is a crooked embrace.

A hummingbird holds the universe at heart.

—

In theory, I am only a theory of what I could/should/must be.

In response to the one-word prompt: Theory