I write to free the words
That dance within my soul.
I write to capture new ones
And feed them to the coals.
I write to build up mountains.
I write to tear them down.
I write to fly on feathered wings.
I write to wear a crown.
I write to explore the possible,
The impossible, and more –
I write and write until I find
What wasn’t there before.
A foot lifted and lowered hesitantly
In the dark, feeling its way
Around unseen obstacles,
Testing the floor,
For it has holes, gaps –
There are weak areas ready,
Just waiting to collapse.
Or slick spots, hoping to take
Your feet out from under you.
Or puddles that stick and
Drag behind you like a chain.
Each inch is measured in careful,
Cautious exploration.
First a toe to find a bare space,
Then, a little weight to
Test the give.
To test everything.
Even with your eyes open,
The unknown is slow going and
Meticulous care.
There’s no going forward
Until you feel safe (somewhat)
About what’s there.
You’re a different person now.
I understand that
Conceptually.
But when I look at your face,
I see the person I knew,
A person who’s no longer
Entirely you.
And I can’t treat you
Like a stranger off the street,
Someone I’ve never met.
So how can I meet you
When I can’t forget?
An earthquake bursting inside your chest
Like a tremor through your very soul:
Which is more frightening –
Fear itself
Or this reaction beyond control?
I stood in sand the color of sky
That stretched to infinity on any side,
An expanse of air or ground or cage
That constantly moved but never changed,
Rearranged exactly the same whether I
Stopped
Or turned
Or closed my eyes:
A blank page without edge or divide.
A turn to the left: no change of view.
A step and a turn brought nothing new.
Until the sand moved,
And I stopped, too.
LITTLE GIRL: Let go! [She strains to pull a toy plane off the ground.] Let go! It’s mine! [There’s no reply. She yanks on the plane, and suddenly, the plane moves across the floor away from her. Its sudden movement makes her fall backwards.] Ow! Mooo-oooom!
[We hear the sound of rushing footsteps as the little girl cries. The door bursts open, and a woman rushes in.]
MOM: What happened? Are you hurt? [She rushes to the little girl, and seeing no injuries, pulls her close.] What’s wrong, sweetie?
LITTLE GIRL: Mooom, she…[sniff] w-wouldn’t let…[sniff] m-me p-play with my…[sniff] my plaa-aa-aane!
MOM: What? Why not?
LITTLE GIRL: She… [sniff] she says girls [sniff] caaan’t.
MOM: Well, that’s not very smart. [The little girl jumps and stares up at her mom. Simultaneously, the plane moves with a hard thunk.] You can throw all the tantrums you want. It won’t change the fact that girls can play with planes just fine. [The plane clanks again, and the mom looks levelly at the air above it.] And anyone who steals a little girl’s toy is just plain mean. [There’s silence except for the girl’s sniffles. The mom gets up and easily picks up the plane.] Here you go, honey. Play all you want.
twytte 