Christopher Haywood Poet Narrative

Part I - The Ridge of the Mind

The Normal sat with hands in lap,
A folded map, a steady pulse,
The world a grid, a factual trap,
Where truth is plain and never false.
"The world," it said, "is stone and lime,
A clockwork heart that keeps the time."
The Abnormal paced the jagged edge,
With eyes like broken stained-glass panes,
A crow upon a crumbling ledge,
With lightning dancing in its veins.
"The world," it hissed, "is silk and smoke,
A cosmic, cruel, and gorgeous joke."

Note: The boundary between the "sane" and the "unbalanced" is often just a matter of which way the telescope is pointed. In this poem, the two sides of the psyche sit on a ridge, debating the physics and the phantoms of a distant solar system.

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