25. Dozens of straight lines

all point the same way.

Then the lines bend and curve;

their paths become twisted and confused.

Circles amid the lines:

spheres of former life.

The spheres and the lines

have the same destination.

24. Where we part ways, you cannot follow.

I travel swifter than any man;

I pass through closed doors.

Shouts announce my arrival;

raised flags salute me.

Wearing a face I reach my destination;

faceless, I must turn back.

23. I brag, but not of myself.

Proclaiming the deeds of another

I stand proud and cold,

gazing out at those

who gaze in at me.

The taller I am,

the louder I speak,

the brighter I shine.

22. I’m no good alone.

I have a twin, my mirror image;

we work together.

We carry fifty, a hundred,

two hundred times our own weight

across thousands of leagues

before we’re worn out.

But no work do we do

of our own volition—

you’ll get no cooperation from us

unless you have us securely bound.

21. We are creatures of shadow

swimming on a boiling, blinding sea.

As large as a world,

as mysterious as a compass,

as constant as a dream,

we live for half a generation

and die the other half,

then are born again. Meanwhile, far, far away,

creatures of light caper

across a cold, dark sky;

they would not exist

if not for us.

20. Sometimes I am made of feathers,

sometimes of rice,

sometimes of pebbles,

sometimes of straw,

sometimes of rich soil,

sometimes of nails,

sometimes of roses,

sometimes of mistakes.

19. Hours ahead of me, hours behind.

I spend most of my life trapped in a box,

let out only in my final moments,

I am never free, though many wish I were.

Though I perish, I am made anew each day.

My predecessor is thought more important,

my successor is paid more attention,

but if you forget me,

you’ll feel my absence for sure.

18. A curious tree am I.

For centuries I have survived

without roots or leaves,

never growing any taller

yet blossoming every year

for a week and a day—

not at the start of spring

but at the end of fall,

when other trees are bare.

17. Seat of man’s desire,

clad only in bare skin,

straighten me out and let me grant you

peace and contentment.