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