To Run or Sit

Today, he said, the sky bends down
where I look out and grips the ground,
it’s welded to the horizon’s lip
so tight I can’t escape through it.

I’ve tried with cars alive with power,
or airplanes that outfly the hour,
I’ve walked the compass day and night
but sky to earth is fastened tight.

I’ve tried to sneak up from behind
but back becomes the front, my mind
labors to break the horizon’s trap
but each new plan but turns me back.

If action will not set me free
I’ll sit and meditate, said he.
He placed a board across two stones
and on his butt as one who owns
the right to wait he sat his bones.