A light can go out in the heart
but we still keep stumbling,
bumping into objects once familiar,
and feeling our way, as we wait for illumination.
A dark tunnel, the therapist calls it,
you have to go through it to get to the other end,
but at the other end there lies
happiness, love, and joy.
I warned her I was claustrophobic.
Does it have to be a tunnel, I asked.
Why does change have to be a tunnel?
Why can’t we think of it
as an open plain we run across?
You see, I went to the Exploratorium once,
bought a ticket to the Tactile Dome:
a pitch-black maze, tight and restricting.
You have to feel your way through.
It requires trust in the unknown.
I could never finish it.
I panicked every time.
Children would run past me and do in fearlessly.
While I would cling to the walls.
I would look back
to the old light I had just left.
And on all fours,
I would climb out the way I came in.
You see I can never finish anything.
I never know if change means
not finishing what I started
or if staying where I am means
not finishing change.
So, I cower on all fours
in a tactile dome of my own making, waiting
for someone to shine a light
and tell me,
Go that way.
but we still keep stumbling,
bumping into objects once familiar,
and feeling our way, as we wait for illumination.
A dark tunnel, the therapist calls it,
you have to go through it to get to the other end,
but at the other end there lies
happiness, love, and joy.
I warned her I was claustrophobic.
Does it have to be a tunnel, I asked.
Why does change have to be a tunnel?
Why can’t we think of it
as an open plain we run across?
You see, I went to the Exploratorium once,
bought a ticket to the Tactile Dome:
a pitch-black maze, tight and restricting.
You have to feel your way through.
It requires trust in the unknown.
I could never finish it.
I panicked every time.
Children would run past me and do in fearlessly.
While I would cling to the walls.
I would look back
to the old light I had just left.
And on all fours,
I would climb out the way I came in.
You see I can never finish anything.
I never know if change means
not finishing what I started
or if staying where I am means
not finishing change.
So, I cower on all fours
in a tactile dome of my own making, waiting
for someone to shine a light
and tell me,
Go that way.
Another terrific poem from you! What I especially like about this one is the combination of abstract & concrete. Illumination and a pitch black maze. Happiness and a tunnel. We get image and idea, and everything comes together.
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