The Side Effects of Waiting for the End of the World- A Poem
I think I saw the world pass by on what I thought was a pier or distant hill
With one eye shut and the other opened wide to the detriment
Of every dream, every hope, every moment lasting until
It closed like a lost lucky coin that’s fallen
Into a fountain
Into a void
Into the chasms vast of our last hopes now past
A silver dollar dulled by the wish of a star burnt out.
There were so many truths that gleamed like dew drops
From the distant peak on which I balanced
Granite rubbed smooth by the passage of time
In what was either abuse or a caress
And as I stood looking down
Too much of a fool to be profound
I saw what my life could’ve been
And I fell from my mountain, tumbling down like half-forgotten
Dreams that were dreamt as a child long ago.
And as I slid and stumbled
As the avalanche of the waiting world did rumble
I saw the moments of was and might slowly pass me by
It was almost as if they were waiting
Paused in time debating
Whether or not I had any right to see what might have been
But in their hesitance I saw the flickers and a snowflake’s life
That stands eternal only until the thaw
And every movie screen shutter that shuddered with truths now uttered
Said or showed the very same thing
That who I’d wanted to be hadn’t mattered
That the dreams like glass had shattered
Beneath the weight of the man I’d been and been too afraid to be.
I saw as I fell with the crumbling stone
Down the cliffside of every bit of progress I’d made
The time that I’d spent making friendships now vacant
Like an open space in an empty parking lot
And the memories made that even now must decay
Because even the best things in life are sewn with time
And the stitching is ripping
The fabric is failing
And as I fell I saw each loved one of the past fade away
Left as they were, their footholds so sure
Peering down as even a fall can leave someone behind
And I wish I had waved
I thought perhaps I might say
Goodbye and thank you for what you have done
To get me this far
To the top of a mountain, a bar,
That only I ever thought might be there
But I’ve never been good at the kind of thing and have lingered
Just once long ago
So I fell in my silence and struck stone after stone with defiance
That those on the slopes wouldn’t know
How much it all hurt, the plummet, the process
Of failing and falling to become something new.
And even now I still hope
Approaching the ground growing close
That I might learn to glide even if it’s ‘just in time’
Because what might be is a mystery
It looks like jagged rocks and a prairie plain
As it looms and shadows like a predator hunting prey
And I suppose that it might be, that even hope can be frightening
That the fall holds more fear than the climb
But the funniest thing is that every thought and hope and dream doesn’t matter
It doesn’t comfort
It doesn’t hold
The embrace and the safety of all that is known
It’s the exhilaration of letting go of what might’ve been.
It’s the fall. It’s the progress. It’s the hope that feels like distress
Faced with eyes closed tight and arms spread out wide
Letting go of who I never was,
Goodbye, my lie of life once lived
Goodbye, my towering home
I feel it all
It’s so very close
There is no longer a mountain
And I’m at peace with the rush of the wind.