Salvation

 

Before I met you

   in the transcendent meadow 

   where grass grew tall and concealed us

I noticed often

   while looking under rocks

   and peering through overgrown vines

That things were empty

   beneath their shiny shells

   with colors calculated to deceive

And threats were empty

   because their promised poison

   was less potent than observation

And there was no flight

   that weak and injured insects

   could hope to use as an escape

From broken wings

   destroyed in daily life

   through constant unrelenting probing

Of broken souls

   and broken buds of life

   with nothing of value left to offer

So I began

   in this state of fatigue

   and tired disillusionment

To doubt my searching

   which had led me nowhere

   except to thoughts I longed to forget

And closed my eyes

   to stop the inquisition

   and kill obscure hope of truth

In loneliness

   in this withered desert

   where I had lived and grown old

But then I met you

   in the eternal meadow

   where grass grew tall and concealed us

And I was saved.

NOTES OF AN UNDERGROUND HUMANIST

© 2014-2019 by Chris Wright