You fade into consciousness.
No, it did not feel like a slumber,
nor does it feel like night or day.

This new found scenario
Oddly left you without confusion.
Almost without looking you knew,
you were in a cell.
Bars closed, but left unlocked.
No one is there to make you stay
You know what to do.

You head towards the cell gate,
Walking without feeling the ground push back against your feet.
As you walk out, you find more cells as far as the eye can see.
With a lack or surprise you look into one and see yourself.
So you take a seat.

This reflection of you separated, seen in tears.
You watch the show; yourself.
And the moment your focus becomes absolute,
Everything around dissolves,
Replaced with a hospital room.
But you remained in good health.

Now you don't see another form.
You seem to be one.
The same feet that felt nothing,
tremble under their own weight
As if the floor that did not make itself known before
Was pulling you with the strength of our sun

Eyes fixed in a stupor
On the elder relative that had once stood with beating heart and warm skin
He's dead
He's gone
From seeing to feeling the emotion
You understand it's the state you're in
These tears are not hollow as you believed the cells had been

The moment you reach this understanding,
You fade back and see yourself.
You stand up with elegance and ease,
And walk down the cells as if to see what's in store.
Window shopping yourself.
A different version, a different age behind every bar.
The floor still absent to your feet,
The only thing pushing is the natural desire to explore.

What do you think of when you hear;
Prison?

Don't worry
about those who
talk about you
behind your back


they're behind you
for a
reason

Trudging along in slow melancholy,
The child,
Side by side with his mother asks,
"Why?"

She says, "I'm sorry,
But it has been a while.
Four, long, full moons like no other,
Making for another passing by."

"I know. Time has passed,
But I do not want right now this sorrow.
I know it will not last, but..."
The child looks up in innocent youth,
"Can't we go tomorrow?"

"Easy now, young one," the mother calmly in return
"For it is with great honor we knew my brother at all in this life.
And with death, we learn."


Look at the elephants in their fascinating way,
How they remember where a fellow member lay grave after many of day.
If only we could know what their calls truly say.

"Hmmmm?"

76

Exultation is the going
Of an inland soul to sea,
Past the houses—past the headlands—
Into deep Eternity—

Bred as we, among the mountains,
Can the sailor understand
The divine intoxication
Of the first league out from land?