WHAT IT MEANS
I awoke today with leaden feet
from the chrysalis of my blankets,
jettisoned by the auditory hallucination
The earliest onset aging pains
tingle cartilage and muscle
as my spine curves under the weight
Day by day, IT comes . . .
a little closer, a little nearer,
hands prying my heart open, retrieving
those I love.
IT is a venomous void, invisible,
indelible, sucking life and joy
and purpose into cold, dead things,
and things then into nothingness.
So, living: the search for meaning.
Time, the measure of a struggle
impossible to win, a slow sublimation
of the individual
to another eve of change,
another time to do it right.
Another life to live.
-- Nicholas La Salla
|"Sculpture of Holy Virgin" Courtesy of Dimitri|
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