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Ascensionby Nancy Clarkbehind your eyelids, you drift on dark flows and lingerings of light, a child afloat, sliding like slow breeze, playing near emerging loops and plumes that rise like gases in your galaxy marked "Private--No Admittance." With downcast eyes you watch your feet, secured by groundboundness like a crawler, unblessed and wingless. Five years in school and for the first time now you raise your hand in class. Your teacher, suddenly a midwife to a runway clearance, stifles "Oh, my God," calmly calls your name, and on the tender wings of answer and assurance you lift a fragile inch above gravity. Airborne once, twice comes and more in giddy addiction. "I-am-a-worthy-person" pulses unarticulated through your mind like fuel that makes love to possibilities. Your nutshelled universe breaks inside-opened-out and bright for soaring sunshine wide and inspiration high. |
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Selection 26 of
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