I have emptied
my shelves of books
my closets, of clothes
my lists, of good intentions
not just to make room
for whatever comes next
but to see
what is here right now:

the light
the dark
the rich
the worn
the choices upon choices
suddenly on display
when their numbers dwindle
and they no longer have each other
to hide behind.

Boy,
is it ever there,
all that here:
more room
than I dreamed of
when I was drowning
in the lack of it
more quiet
than I could fill
if I sang for a thousand years.

But if for a moment
I can set down
these last, sad items,
my misspent past,
my pre-soiled future,

A hairline crack
lets the real light come pouring in,
enough so that even a blind old bat like me
can see that I am only really scared
when I am there
and that every single breath
is a free ride back to here

xxx
c

Image by vige via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.