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Sunday, August 19, 2012

Of Oaths and Darkness

I remember when I signed
my oath
oh not a signature
because I did not know
how to write

it was what I saw
bright lights
the first feel of hands
the vague images
of first experience

they come to me now
from 60 years ago
remembered visions
from what I believe
was my birth
in a hospital not far
from what would be
my first home
on a gently rising street

first memory
of a promise to live
in the light
and away from the darkness
and yet life has a way
of showing us those first visions
though the darkness
that surrounds us in the years
that follow

the haze of the foggiest bridge
the dull closeness of a wet rubber glove
things seen and felt
and yet somehow eclipsed
surrounded by a halo
through which we stumble
not drunk yet inebriated
with an overwhelming sadness
as if one is walking
through a cemetary
filled with family

it is the oath we who live have signed
to go on through this field
to return to the doorway
of the closed room
from where we came
to which we promise to return
enlightened aware bemused
filled with laughter and sadness
a giant tank filled with beads of life
blended into the fullness
of debilitating age
whose promise has been fulfilled

Copyright © 2012 by Barry G Wick

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