The Tear Poem by Christopher Thumwood

One day when I was walking, my mind quite full of dreams
i stumbled on a place where the sky was splitting at the seams.
I peeped through this rip with a wide and beady eye
awed by the view that lay beyond the sky.
A great wide ocean; black waves and briny brink
and an armada of giant turtles that sail the silky ink,
Their shells were brightly painted; in Reds and Golds and Blues
and the sun was grinning wildly as it galloped around the moon.
I returned again the next day to indulge in eyeball riches
where the fabric of the universe was tearing at the stitches.
That sea I never saw again but this time shifting sands
and a marbled city marvellous that could have sat upon my hands.
I returned again, again, again and never the same seen twice
I saw small things the size of Elephants and Elephants the size of mice
A tree whose boughs and branches held whole worlds but not one leaf
and a range of soaring mountains composed of tumbled teeth.
Once when staring through, i saw some vibrant eyes
that stared back most enquiring before blinking in surprise.
This made me rather wary, sent a shiver through my spine
the thought that I could see to theirs and they could see to mine.

A menagerie of knitting ladies, some old and some just girls
appeared one day and blocked this gap, my view to other worlds
they had a chat and drank some tea then worked for all the night
and once they left and went away our sky was once more right.
No more to gaze on distant lands, no more impossibles to see
no more ups to in fact be downs, no more strange sights for me.
But perhaps - just perhaps- for someone somewhere far away
another tear will show I've told the truth, in what you've read today.