Thoughts Running Amok
Staring at the glazed surface of a darkened pool,
the reflection of a distorted image gazes back.
Succession of chills run up my spine. Emanations
of time’s assault I strongly deny. Too many
memories lay hidden, like silt at the bottom of a pond.
My eyelids close for the hundredth-millionth time.
Ghostly companions lay in waiting, the slightest
indulgence, and they’re running amok in
their vast playground; stomping, racing, sometimes
strolling with cocksure ease as if they own the joint.
These great evangelists call for me to believe in all
sorts of notions, from ideologies that need defending to
feelings that need protection. Without them, my life
has little purpose. They are my lord and master–I am
the ardent devotee.
And what about the rewards for being such a
dedicated believer? Ah, there’s nothing like it;
the pain, the agony for following these crusaders
of verisimilitudes and wondrous tropes. I sense
they’re getting nervous whenever I question their
motives.
My eyes open.
I lean in closer staring at the reflection.
The image appears less distorted. A smile
spreads across my face. Sighs of relief
escape from my mouth. The playground is
quiet now, tranquility is utterly sweet.
Copyright Adele L Nieto
March 14, 2006
