An old paper trick. My daughter’s voice counting
as her thumbs and forefingers shift the shape
to reveal triangles within triangles, like the smallest
possible stable shape of a thought, a fate. Choosing from the images
or words drawn on each one, I go with “Gold.” Shuffle. “Pine tree.”
Shuffle. “Two inseparable dots.” At each choice the landscape
changes again beyond choice. Under the last shape
is the final stable thing, the fortune: An old dream
will come back to you. Almost invisible, that dream
beneath colors and trees, underpinning everything.
Thanks for bringing back an old dream, Jeff.
Remarkable in the extreme, Sir Jeff! Sheer genius how the poem changes shape as the paper’s folds change the shape of the paper itself. Just utterly fantastic!
“Almost invisible,” but not quite. Perfect!
Like father, like daughter – even her origami game contains poetry and deep messages 🙂
Sweet, truthful and scary all at once!