Origami
I wonder at the
trickery of it
Yet there is no
attempt to deceive
Only length and
depth in a single plane of being
The paper being
plain and unadorned
The flattest white
sheet
Twisted round
Tucked and creased
Folded into shape
Its razor-sharp edges
Turned in upon
itself
And back inside
again
Flatness
transposed to three dimensions
By force of skill
and gentle sorcery
Into lines and
angles
Squares, triangles
Delicate
dodecahedrons
Living trapezoids
Giving strength
and articulation
Suggesting shape
and shadows
Depth and meaning
Buried deep within
the paper
A bird, a rabbit,
a frog
Creatures which
are not there in any normal sense
Suddenly appear and
have life and substance
Their heads erect,
alert
Sitting upon the
hand of their creator
Between the
dextrous fingers
Of the manipulator
Held for a
fleeting moment
For wonder and
admiration
Before slowly
allowed to unfold before my very eyes
Vanishing whence
they came
Into an empty page
of nothing
The faintest crease-marks
upon the paper
The only evidence
They ever had existence
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