Pluto's Night

Last night, as I lay in the dark
trying to sleep
I listened to the June winds ripping
around the house, pushing against the bedroom windows
as if they were looking for entrance.
I listened to them
Not thinking of the fierce beauty
of these warm winds;
But instead hearing in them
the voiceless pain of the world
Whipping around the house
Reminding me
Of all the cruel and indifferent ways
we humans have
of inflicting pain.

It was if I could hear the voices
of all those long dead,
and the cries of those in pain, alone.
And through the cracks
they came in at me, rushing—
those winds I so skillfully
shield myself from.

And then, as if to protect myself
I placed my hand upon my head,
and stroked my brow
Envisioning a holy light—
soothing myself from
the harsh winds of despair.
Till I fell asleep
and began to sense
an unwelcome presence
next to me, behind my curved back
something not wishing me well, hovering there…

And then from deep within
some cavernous well of sleep
where I could drown
or be pulled back under—
I felt a choice arising—
A powerful plea for life
Up swelling from some place
of unknown reserve…
And up came a scream—
Blowing away the apparition and
the evil intents, loveless pain,
and careless indifference
of the world.

And then I rested,
Peaceful in the strength of
That holy gust—
so strong and wild;
that breath of life—
that woke me up
while the night winds blew.

E. Spring June, 2008