Wonder and Awe

Of the two, Wonder is more polite. 
Wonder wells, expanding my breath, 
a private feeling I can manage
if I’m fast enough to cover my mouth. 
Awe blasts through the top of my head
opens my skull and shoots out like a geyser, 
as subtle as Old Faithful.

When Awe arrives, my whole body becomes a conduit. 
I am the volcano and Awe is the firehose of sulphuric heat
a flaming sword of lava spewed from the throat. 
Awe turns my skin molten and hot
discharges shame like a bullet
leaves me smoldering, spent. 
Awe doesn’t care if I’m driving, or in church. 

Once on a whale watch, a humpback breached
and Awe erupted.
I fell to my knees on the deck of the boat,
blind and breathless, split in half. 
I will spend the rest of my life
cleaved by that moment, one side 
smooth and polished, the other an edge, 
sharp and raw (was I bitten in half, 
or did I become the fang) 

No matter how solid a footing you think you’ve found,
Awe is the knowing that beneath us, 
sometimes there are whales
who launch like rockets
through the skin of one world and into the next. 
Awe is a physical intrusion, truth 
manifested as salt spray, deep briny marine, 
the crash and groan as the atmosphere makes room
for Miracle, Jubilance, Other
for the impossibility 
of a giant in flight. 

That boat ride was twenty years ago, and still 
every time I think of it, my edges
sparkle like glass. 

Photo 200119102 | Humpback Breach © Manuel Balesteri | Dreamstime.com