One Room Becomes A World

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In the cold and dark, one room becomes a world—
After hours under blankets,
An intersection opens when the power fails,
Reveals space of chilled terror and exhalation
As thoughts settle and become transparent,
The way muddy water obscures before it
Sits overnight in a glass and calmly clarifies.
I cannot help but wonder about the blue—
Memory observes, takes notes like a court reporter….
Years of life take the witness stand,
Questioned by invisible presence,
Called forth not to find answers
But to answer for my life….

There is no safe or dangerous distance in the dark
Where all is still and only shadows move,
Giving voice to what cannot be escaped.
At such a time, nothing is so inconsequential as time.
Hours seem frozen when hands of the clock stop.
Hurricane wind howls and blows wet clumps of leaves,
Scratches up against the house,
Knocks down thick trees, too old and brittle
To withstand the raging force,
Breaks as suddenly as Death upon the night.

I lie alone in the dark,
Make a list of loved ones who are gone….
Never had I thought they would be away so long.
Yet suddenly they are here again within the house—
Every hour I fail to notice is a lie, a sin against myself.
“It’s freezing and dark outside.  Come inside.
Let me warm you at fire of the heart.”
Just as I begin to doubt, I turn and find them
Standing there— mute, eyes shinning bright blue,
Filling in the empty space.

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