Body Match

For many years Sylvia and I have kept a list of body types that seem matched in happy conjugation, as if drawn together by a magnetism created solely by their size, shape, and body mass. We have absolutely no scientific evidence to support the hypothesis that this bodily conjunction is a prime ingredient in mate selection and endurance.

The most that has emerged from this long observation is a little poem, cast in the frame and spirit of the rapidly disappearing (is it?) world view in which we still remain immersed. So here’s the poem:

In Newton’s world each body

magnetized by gravity

seeks union with another.

All bodies seek a mate

matched not alone by size

but with respect to every likeness,

every resonance of weight and density.

Behold, two sticks that sidle down the path,

leaf in leaf, twig in twig,

the wind a song within their limbs;

Twin towers with no rival to their space,

windows matching all around up to the clouds;

Two penguins marching in a waddle,

shadows of each other,

warmed by hapless flapping wings;

Two apples, two pears,

beaming in apposite reflection,

longing for a bite.

The slender chimney flanks the squatting hearth,

sheltering a hidden fire.

The flitting sparrow finds its refuge in the friendly bear,

erratic flight in juxtapose to stolid strength.

All tuned, attracted, bound in one chord,

the magnetism of the universe of love.