Emergence

The wind that drove me

from the cavern stopped blowing;

a long intermission poised -

drawing my eyes into regions where

light had been filtered by jigsaw effects

of the surrounding trees.

To see inside myself meant

halting the apparent gaze;

meant arguing with the fractionated aspects -

all gathered in committee

to decide who would deliver

the final product.

As if I cared.

It was all a sham -

illusion and smoke and focus pocus;

a multicolored cape-swirl

beneath the spotlights

as the audience gasped

in pure amazement.

All facets danced with me;

the front men, the showgirls.

Performers all, enacting the sleight of hand,

the high kick - a dazzling/sparkling

disco ball of the self.

O wonderment.

Beyond lay a greener time -

a bucolic freedom to reassemble

the jumble of parts;

discover the integral.

Sunlight awaited -

warmth and silence

atop the mountain.

© 2002 Melissa Songer