A formal parade,
Solemn and steady;
A duet of trumpets,
Strong and sweet;
A blast of rifles,
Stark and strident.
A lazy morning,
Still and sleepy;
A bar and grill,
Strong and spicy;
A gathering of friends,
Smiling and sunny.
A day of remembrance:
A day off work:
A ritual for lost:
A welcome for summer.
A starkly flipping coin –
The remnants of the fight:
The reason for fighting.
Life’s puzzle door:
You slide pieces here,
Make room there.
Some shift them easily
Into obvious spots,
Completed in one go.
Some shift again and again
Into different arrangements,
Using different strategies,
Never quite getting to
A happy whole.
So many small pressures
Added unobtrusively
Over time, unnoticed
So many small cracks,
Patched constantly,
Over time, unending
So many small pressures
Released suddenly,
At once, incredible
So many small cracks
Revealed completely,
At once, unmistakable
What is your shield when your world overturns?
Is it the pulsing energy of a crowd?
Beating thoughts back with drums and lights
Is it the muffling weight of a closed door?
Burying fears with books and stories
Is it the driving whip of frenzied work?
Blotting it out by crowding minutes
Is it the rhythms of a formal prayer?
Barricading with symbol and sermon
Is it the thrilling spike of vital risk?
Bolting, diving, or vaulting away
Is it the warmth of a loving hug?
Blanketing all with comforting care
What is your shield, your shelter, your escape?
How do you survive the strikes of fate?
Assembled in bits and blocks –
Built and rebuilt and built again
As moments inspire, and years destroy.
Shaped by souls, study, and society
From overarching shape to enfolding voids:
A life’s achievement and frame, as well,
Completed without plan or oversight.
A dozen, a multitude, a score –
The paths stretch forward, back, beyond.
First steps so clear, so precise.
Too quickly, the paths turn and twist:
The steps fade, blur, and obscure,
Leaving the path’s distant end
In dark, unsettled uncertainty.
Gray matter emblazoned with patterns and paths,
Taught, learned, innate, and in-between.
Like a spymaster, it traps information
And sends it through those labarynthian paths,
Never seeing the walls of its own creation.
All-encompassing rage
Bursts forth like fireworks:
Fast, percussive, and screaming.
Constrained in a cage
Of forced civility –
All internal
But for wisps
Of escaping smoke.
“Don’t give up!”
One cries to others,
For it too well remembers
How a light so snuffed
Shatters and sunders
Those left behind.
“Make it stop!”
Another screams silently,
For it too strongly feels
How a life subtly skewed
Shackles and slices
Those bleeding inside.
“Leave me alone!”
Whimpers the one
That too deeply knows
How powers held singly
Falter and fragment
When faced only outward.
“Be with me!”
Begs yet another
That too clearly sees
How days left but not lived
Frighten and fracture
When paced ever onward.
From whimpers to curses
And whispers to screams,
They overwhelm and overflow
Mind, soul, and senses:
A cacophony of can’ts
An onslaught of shoulds.
From crescendos to solos
And all in between
The chorus continues:
To all but their target,
Unheard and unseen.
Questions like razors.
Events like buckshot.
Life as a minefield
In an erratic hailstorm:
Duck, cover, patch, piece,
And bleed.
twytte 