Up the stairs

 

fire.jpg

 

Transubstantiation

 

Is it w o r t h y ?

This thing, this

Ritual

Little packets of self

Sent out in tiny boats across

The electronic sea

Declarations of a creative spirit

Valued perfunctorily in likes and follows

 

What’s it really w o r t h ?

Why should any care?

Weighed against the things that

Feel true, feel

Vital

The unswervingly loyal heart of a dog

For the one who chose it

The ceaseless sacrifice of the mother

For an ungrateful child

The courage of those who ran up the stairs

As others fled down them

And selflessness of those who brought the wounded in

Under fire

What weight do these words

These impressions from a singular perspective

Even have?

If a w o r t h y soul is as light as a feather

Then mere words are a cry in the vacuum

Everything that really matters

Can be expressed in

A single

Look

The most epic poetry

Is there complete in the moment two lovers’ eyes lock

And do not turn away.

 

 

 

 

Words and image are my own.

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5 thoughts on “Up the stairs

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