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02/25/09 - (1)
The Glow
As he grew older and older, He fell farther and deeper down the hole in his soul Leading nowhere...nowhere appreciably identifiable, anyway.
And all he could do was accept his letting go, That urgently compelling disconnection with gravity (No, it couldn't be that gravity was letting go of him),
Which propelled his spirit, second to nanosecond, graveward, As vertiginously as a comet racing through space, Heading toward extinction — cessation of breathing, being.
Only, that hole, down which he flew, totally out of control, Had no bottom, just a barely discernable glow, Like a halo surmounting a Giotto angel, below centuries of grime,
An otherworldly nimbus beckoning his free-falling vision, Guiding his slowly metamorphosing flesh and bones Into that dusty land beyond knowing, called Nowhere — home.
And when he awoke, he had no notion of where he was, As for the glow, it recognized him.
02/25/09 - (1)
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