In the Past I Thought the Worst Ill Was Not Knowing
having handed my heart over
with soft and trembling hands
but gathering no response-
not a blink, not a sound
and surely not a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’
i was simply suspended in silence
the way a dead fly roams
weightless in a glass of water
compelled to patiently wait
for revelations that never came.
now i have been newly taught
the worst ill, truly, is knowing
while being bound and unable to move;
watching the approach
as from a far way off-
witnessing every misstep,
every detour, every delay
without having power over the outcome.
i watch the inevitable with weightless eyes
as it creeps in circles
and yawns eons around my heart.
oh, that i could shake you from this sleep!
yet that is a task for you, alone
as you struggle towards the morning Light.
perhaps, with luck, my little hill shall be reached by fall of night.