John Watterson

Poems on Eternity, the Endless Universe, and Me John Watterson

Watterson's musings press the limits of expression. Planck's ultimately small 10-35 meters expands to the Sufi mystic's Nothingness. Feelings expand from Issa's compassion for the fleas on his deathbed to a glimpse of God's anguish at [having to permit] the Holocaust, the price of Israel. In one vignette, Watterson pictures the cosmos, endless universes, as dust particles at 30,000 feet disappear in the troposphere. What is the effect? The effect, he says, is something like finding a long-lost reference. Or of having stumbled on the right person just now to tell about a rare instance of moral bravery in his youth. The effect might be that just now innumerable originals of Beethoven are dipping their quills in ink and starting the seventh symphony. One need only imagine and listen.