by Jamie McCormick

Created on: August 10, 2010

NAïVETÉ DIES YOUNG

I open my eyes as my eyelids close, and in the darkness, I can see.

The overwhelmingness of life envelopes my mind,

Wrapping me in a humid blackness that causes my body to cry out for respite.

So I stifle the clamor and rest.

Silence dances lightly on my tongue, slightly sweet and satisfying,

Drowning with its roar the din of myriad monsters -

Some real, some invented by Worry (the most unloyal and constant companion).

A warmth that smells of laughter drifts lazily into my space,

Rebuffing the sticky heat of Shadow and tingling my skin.

But I know I cannot hide forever in my reverie, no matter how pleasant this invented place.

Overcoming my apprehensions, I look behind, above, under the Shadow,

And the World opens her eyes back, staring straight into mine.

Shafts of light dispel the splintered fragments of dark, and, for the first time, I see

The World unveiled,

waiting for me across an abyss

over which my unshod toes dangle.

I now realize that I must reside somewhere across that chasm

Where backwards is normal and broken is the natural state of being.

The rugged crossing will rip my flesh - I am not properly attired for such a venture -

But I will grow tougher with time.

Besides, I have no choice. I want to live, and to live I must cross.

So I begin, right, left, right, left...

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