Journey to the Center While Dreaming the Impossible Dream
There were no words
There was no sound
There was no time
Only the flutter of images
in my mind
like many-winged seraphim
only darting more,
chasing bits of dust
in and out of sunbeams
until, weary with their pursuit,
they settle down on a porcelain plate
for one wing beat
It’s right at that point
that I don’t know what to do;
the images in my head jam
like a slide-projector that’s caught
halfway between that portrait
of dear Aunt Louise,
and the one of our old dog Skip
lapping up water with gusto.
Then, before I know it,
the signs and lines
darts and holographs grow quick and quicker
while underneath them bellows
a mighty hum.
First a word, like a droplet of rain,
then another- snatches of conversation.
The words make no sense
and remain arbitrary and unattached
to the snowballing chaos in my mind.
The characters my imagination creates,
are many, faceless, and undeserved;
they spew their monologues, harmonies, and catastrophes.
My body sinks so far underneath the spell
that I forget it is even there at all,
and that is the point when I fall…