Sunday, December 11, 2011

Futility

















Low winter rays burn my retinas, bite my brain
But the ice cold river whispers in my ear, promising to ease my pain.
The sun and the guard-rail are one,
My heart and the current are another.
The maelstrom seeks out my soul, like a lover
To lie forever in its icy embrace,
Frozen in a peaceful state of grace.
My tears rise as steam off the surface of the St-Lawrence
As dark thoughts come in torrents.
What if the shock awakens me to a new reality
And my mind changes, cowardly ideas loosen their hold?
Paralyzed, no longer by fear but by the cold,
It will be too late to fight the imminent brutality.
5 years have flowed under that bridge.
Laughable now, to imagine contemplating that plunge.
The futility of it, like battling a flood with a sponge.
"Bring it on!" I scream to the sky,
"Is that all you got, Big Guy?"
There is no going back, in Life or Death;
It's an onward journey, from the first to the
  ...very

        ...last


             ...breath.



Peace to all,

Andrea, Wanda, Volcandrea, whatever.