(Photo Credit: This poem was inspired by German artist Gabriele Schlesselmann‘s piece, Observation. http://www.gabriele-schlesselmann.de)
Peter pressed the issue
About the past
He said it is a bridge
Collapsing behind
With every step
In space or in the mind
The sound of crumbling
Is all that remains.
Anna disagreed
And touched
The back of her head
She said,
“The past is braided
here next to my skull
interwoven threads attached
cascading down.”
The debate rolled around
Like a tumble weed
Dry and filled
With agitation and
With wind and
Picking up the dust
Of misunderstanding and of
Disconnection.
“But I remember,”
Said Anna, and
“I do too,”
He whispered into
The air heavy with
Distance between
Her admission and his
Isolation.
Invisible walls
Erected between
Murky like swamp water
Disorienting like smoke
Thin like clouds—
And if he looked with only eyes
He would have turned away
Like fear.
In his imagination
He was strong
Moving along
The path in between
His hesitation and
Her vacillation
Conquering impending
Devastation.
Peter felt bolts
Screw through his feet
Into the floor
Caught between
Tomorrow and
Before
The middle of the moment
Weighted like an anvil.
He felt like a clown
Tears rolling down
Behind a mask of
White painted on
A smile red
Withdrawn
From the truth
Within.
Anna said a simple thing,
“You are afraid
of the future
and I run from
the past
maybe the middle
is all
we have.”
Something true
Like a bolt of lightning
Filled the room
Forced
Confusion to scatter
Like bugs or
Like demons
Who dwell in the dark.
They stood in the colors
That splash
Onto eyelids pulled down
After sunlight exposes
Reality
Leaving only
Shapes and pigments
Behind.
Peter did the thing
That frightened him
Most
And Anna met him
Halfway
He stepped into the future
She let go of the past
From the middle she whispered,
“Stay.”
—copyright Jill Szoo Wilson
This is the song I listened to on repeat as I wrote this poem. It is called “Samantha,” by Matthew Halsall:
Leave a comment