Monday, June 24, 2013


Once noble, once proud,
he had now sank into a deep, somnambulant cloud
of altered reality,
of unknowability.
So deep that he was unsure of his ability
to climb out, to, once again, be on top of his game.

Down here, it was comfortable, everything seemed the same.
Why put forth the effort to right himself?
Down here, he was like a book on a shelf.
Just one of thousands, filed away...
Down here hidden from the light of day
where no one was likely to check him out
nor even hear him if he gave a shout.
A shout for help, for assistance.
He could sit here in squalor and mere existence.

Unable to even put up any resistance
to the possibility of sinking further down into the cloud,
into the Library's catacombs,
whose walls were closing in, becoming his shroud.

The quietness of tombs,
here amongst the endless tomes.

Hark!  At the very last moment,
a ray of light, of hope,
found its way down from the windows of the upper floors.
Dawn had risen, its life-giving force assaulting the clutching Library,
its light coursing through the succession of doors
down to where he stood sadly near a knotted rope,
down to where there was little or no movement.

Up he looked now and saw the distant light!
It flickered in his drunken mind.
Awoke something in him.
The will to fight!
Some immutable force gave him reason to find -
the will to live!

He fell off the shelves,
and landed upright.

Like his ancestors before him,
he took that new step out into the light.
Bathed in its glow.
He swore he could hear the sounds of an old hymn
playing just there out of sight.

And he took his second step,
then many more.

As she would have wanted him to.

mindbringer, 23 June 2013