There was no fall
Only the breaking,
Only the mess;
The shards
Like glass, like ice.
Fractured pieces,
that once was whole.
Not Easter eggs,
or toy balloons,
or spinning globes –

Complete like
ripened oranges,
as round, as bright 
as Sun.

The break was slow –
so quiet,
Like sock-sheathed feet,
Tip-toes on sand.
No invite, no notice;
unannounced entry –
familiar stranger,
an unknown foe
darkening doorways,
slipping in.

He gave no bow,
Offered no name,
Once, I thought I knew it.
He was soundless, intent.
Path well cut,
goal just set:
Seek and destroy,
Seek and destroy.
He left a seed.
I watered; it grew.

In full form it towered
Like Jack’s beanstalk.
Then there were two of us;
that thing and me.
I named it Doubt. Misery.
Two voices, one mind.
My mind – a shell;
That Easter egg,
Or toy balloon, 
or spinning globe.

The voices:
Mine? His?
One thin, and weak;
The other? Like hell,
Like fee-fi-fo.
Clear and sharp,
Slicing the hum.
You can’t, it says.
And I listen.
I stop.

That voice? The power…
It is big as air.
More certain than
The rise-fall 
at my breast;
As constant as
The blood-beat 
at my temple.
Unyielding as night;
Obstinate as death. 

 

July 2011