All night
I rack my brains
desperate to end the war
between two cherished loves
and only fail miserably
Until at last
in the pearly dawn
I ask the god
of the small and powerless:
Oh Little One
wreak your kindness upon me
Help me face my fears
or better said
help me face
myself
this failed
nonentity
Take heart
says She
Just dive in and feel
all those dark and sticky
gross and icky feelings
that you dread
Feel them through and through
like blasts of heat
or waves of goo…
and so I do,
imagining the very worst
scenario:
Those darling souls
I see as part of me
held helpless
in the teeth of hell
and me watching powerless
as they scream
This,
to me,
has always been
the worst
of all possible
agonies
Until
in the midst
of it all —
Hah!
I notice something
odd.
No matter how fierce
the heat
of my imaginings
I fail to lose myself
but am simply
here
not bad, not good
just calm and
the tiniest bit
amused
by these dire
mental shenanigans
That is when
it occurs to me:
what if all this misery
this angst
and dread
of final tragedy
are
nothing
but my own
quite clever
and convincing
imaginings?
What if I’m not
a victim
of insanity
but just a child
acting out her fantasies
of delight and misery
half-believing them
but more than anything
awash
with wonder
at being
here?
And with that whiff of possibility
the embattled castle falls
and blows away…
and try as I might,
I cannot find my despair
anywhere
Then I fall to my bruised
and bloody knees
Oh glory be
What if
in spite of me
I am
indeed
already free?
