Page 7 - Packing for the Apocalypse
P. 7
PREPARATION POEM 2
Show me. Now, at last. How to get out of being Trapped in a question that keeps going in circles. One foot nailed down. While the fire is sparking.
I dreamed of another evacuation but could not find The door or remember the house or where I was. Doors were all the same. But I am different now. Things roll on to a natural end point, don’t they?
What should I bring to the ticket line? Memories? Here: Here is my resume. See anything you like?
Can all this longing and love of flowers translate Into some better form in a more balanced world? A world not where people see consequence only As woe, happening elsewhere to unworthy others.
In my world, I own this fire. I own this fear. I own My obsession with ordinary comfort, my personal Place, my ground for hopes unfulfilled, for a work Undone, my chances untaken and my - what is it?
Laziness, shall we call it that? Choosing to wonder And to suffer the pain of our common experience With grace. That word which means not to shame.
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