Supine, Looking at the Sky
Three times it happened, all connected,
Transcending time and space,
Ignited by the key ingredients -
A tree and sky above my face.
Looking up through skeletal winter branches,
The leaves had dropped off of each bone,
The third time I was with a cherished friend,
The others, I was alone.
Rock 'n roll poets played the stinging soundtrack,
Very clear, yet very low.
The second time the music played in my head.
The others were the stereo.
Above, a patchwork of blue polygons,
Each a different shape.
My eyes traced the branching borderline.
What I'd caught could not escape.
Those bare boughs and branches were the border
Of my roots in the earth below
And the greater spiritual universe
As time was moving slow.
I was no longer lost, no longer running,
Gazing skyward, I was found.
The quiet energy in me was stunning
As I looked up from the ground.
I saw that I was sad, but not bewildered.
Yet, too, I was wild, and I was free.
I was young and I was old, feeling bleak and cold,
But I was real, and it was me.
Copyright ©
David Crandall
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