as the lass who went with Krishna
and beheld in his throat
the complete universe,
I would heft into your lap
my daughter, our mootie –
the triangulation point that punctuates infinity;
the diapered Daruma doll, wobbly but equilateral;
cosmic collateral, pyramidal, just apparently small;
hair like loose voltage – stray and sparky straw;
grey-eyed, green-eyed, blue-eyed, pie-eyed,
my Machu Picchu of the Kitchen Floor.
Now, will we visualise
the world? Cell by cell,
Saturn to Sedna, Hells to Valhalla
this and those universes,
from Nigh-No-Place (Bloodaxe,2008), © Jen Hadfield 2008, used by permission of the author and the publisher.