A Place Outside of Time

 

"The difference between flying and falling is where you place the ground."

~Paul S. Holcomb (October, 2002)

 

 

COMING HOME

(from my new manuscript-in-progress, “Ethereal”)

 

With an ambling gait, a slithering disposition,

this shadow (a chaotic specter born of reason)

creeps about my mind.  I fend off darkness

with my own version of light, enlightened

not through words but thought and experience.

Howling, the windless voice of night descends

to pierce this thing I know as truth and

leave me naked.  I'll redefine myself; it's

not as if it wasn't done before.  Spring

returns for me, and takes away this space

(a void that once was her, but I don't know

what it's consumed since she was there) and

every day is gathering momentum, driving

me toward home.  I'm coming home and I don't

want to know the reasons; I'm allowed, so

that's enough for me.  I'm coming home and

it's the perfect season for rebirth, for

new beginnings.  I'll hold it in my palm

and watch it turn into the New Earth, New

Life, bringing flowers for a desperate mind.