the image in my head right now:
A glass bowl filled with glass marbles. Stillness. Then, the curtains sway and heave, a wave comes crashing through the window and knocks the glass bowl off of the table. Can the fish in the ocean hear the marbles hit the floor, displace the water, the chair, the walls, each other? Do the marbles look like air bubbles to the fish or do they see in them cat's eyes? or childhood games? memories?...
I love this poem and it has been haunting me lately.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.