When I abruptly arrived at this awareness
I found myself in the midst of traversing
traveling, as it were, through an oddly familiar forest
Some of the fauna carried the scent of recognition
Beckoned by these memorable woods
The uneasy feeling of deja vu
I seemed to know the direction to take
Though the path was a stranger to me
However, recognition was fleeting
Soon the vines tried to hold me
And the underbrush tried to encumber me
I found myself lost and running
(Why is it, when you aren’t sure where you are going,
Getting there faster seems like a good idea?)
Finally I emerged from the thickness
Into a picturesque clearing
The bluest ocean I had ever seen
Gently brushed against the greenest shoreline
Nearly at the water's edge
Was a lamp on a blackened mast
Reminiscent of days gone by
Which seemed to shine
Brighter than the light of the cloudless sky
I was drawn inexorably toward it
As I got closer it appeared to brighten
There beside the light was a bench
Of wrought iron and wood
Ornate and inviting as the light
The bench welcomed me
As I sat on it
I could feel its welcome
Nearly as an embrace
I luxuriated in the warmth of the light
My every sense sought out its affection
The more I reached
The more I realized
There was no light
On the blackened post
The light was no light at all
But a bell
Blackness enveloped me
As the ringing rang out
I was bathed in the coldness
Of the sound
The ocean grew fainter
The lush shoreline faded
All that was left
Was the embrace of the bench
And the sound
Ringing
Sweeping over me
Rocking me
In the darkness of sound
The cold emotionless wave
Eroded the edges of my hurt
It filled me
It covered me
It lulled me into its sleep
Possibly to dream
Or just to stop thinking
For one night
Just one night
© Ron Simpson, Jr.
