Sunlight and Rain: The Prism of an Anarchist

Written by: Chris D. Aechtner

These are the confessions of an Anarchist,

when I

stepped away from the light,
entered the shadows
of forbidden caverns,
the caves, tunnels 
and catacombs of anarchy.

Here        a constant, cold caress
of moisture,
a persistent inner rain
trickling,
pooling alongside lonely thoughts.

Nothing would grow that deep underground,
not even fungus, nor lichen.
I survived on sheer will and dampness,
lungs mutated into gills,
eyes became accustomed
to this ever-present night.

A Mission lost in translation and transmission,
a rogue satellite orbiting
through thin air's mind-bending space,
cut-off from other agents of Anarchy.
I slithered along corridors of broken souls,
fed on regurgitated thoughts
and drowned dreams of cities burning down,
melting like hot candle wax.
How I wanted the cities above to burn!
To burn down into the ground
in waves of rolling thunder and lightning.

Not able to differentiate between night and day,
weeks gave birth to months
in a C-section of fleeting years.

Somehow        I stumbled upon a side entrance,
felt warmth pushing in,
pushing down,
and my will shattered apart,
fusing back together into Plan B.

Sunlight!

As I broke the surface,
light seared my tightly shut eyes,
breaching eyelids with ease.
The pain felt wonderful,
changing into a delirious exultation
and heated comfort,
thawing out frozen, stiff bones.

Rays of sunlight rippled across my skin,
evaporating the slimy, cavernous musk,
burning me on the outside,
cleansing me from the inside.
Eventually        I was able to keep my sore eyes open
while they felt ready to sizzle and explode from sensory overload,
globules floating through my vision.

The first thing I clearly saw  
was not close up        magnified,
but the distant horizon enveloped in a halo
of lemon haze, arching between two mountain peaks.
I wept,
skin buzzing from the sun's heat.

Yes, 
how sunlight changes the perspective of nightmares,
revealing reality's potential fibers,
balancing the darkness within,
bending the remaining droplets of lost hope
into a prismatic ribbon of brilliance and prayer,
always,

        always evading the deep-rooted catacombs below,
a place I will choose to forego,
only entering within memories,
until even these are burned away by sunlight,
until even these are cleansed by sunlight.





2013 Double-Rainbow Remix
December 18th/19th, 2013
(originally written April 12, 2011)




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