Archive
07/11/09
That Hallowed, Enchanted Land
I've been home slightly less than three nights, Yet the time and space separating me From the hallowed, enchanted land Where I just stayed, for a day shy of two weeks, Seems like five lifetimes. My breathing seizes.
Going through routine's notional motions, Doing what I can, to assume the guise of a happy man, I pretend that who I am Is a person of relevance in humankind's community, Knowing, all the while, I'm useless, owned by anonymity,
That melancholy has possessed my soul, And that I've become expugnable, expendable, to myself. Even as I dine, tonight, in this familiar restaurant, I'm not here; my spirit is decidedly elsewhere, Bearing witness to sunset, the rising moon, over the lake.
And so it is, in contemplating who I'm not, Who I'll necessarily be, When the inscrutable future resolves my diffuse destiny, That I realize my tenuous existence Is craving purgation, spiritual cleansing, liberation,
The molting of my tired psyche's incomplete dreams, And that, conceivably, before this evening is over, My morose soul might abandon its birthplace, Return to that hallowed, enchanted land — its true home — To be reborn on the shores of Lake Nebagamon.
07/11/09
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