In darkness, powerless.
Screened from the world,
No vital signs, no thoughts -
no memory.
Locked in silence -
terminated.
A vast storehouse
once teeming, now dormant -
lies empty.
All that was is no more.
Coil upon coil,
once vibrant, now mute -
voiceless.
Where is the breath on dust?
The divine spark which leaps
to quicken the dead?
Where the pulse, that jolt -
hurtling from point to point
to stir the heart within?
Newborn,
no past, no future, only now,
the light leaps, flickers, grows.
The keys unlock the passages
of thought -
the word is born.
Into the ether;
and words return.
And with them hope, renewal,
a summoning of courage.
The silence is no more,
the wall is broken down
and floods the heart
with knowledge.
This tree in Eden of which was eaten,
is here, is now.
But banishment is not the price, rather
acceptance, a welcoming -
"Windows is starting up."
This poem is copyright 2004 Oliver, to whom comments may be sent.
