Once I climbed a mountain
Far overhead, a ripe coconut
Falling from the tree, cracks on a soft skull;
I hear it echo from across the sea
And it digs into my eardrums.
I see the terror in that poor man
And his inevitable soft curtsey
Off of this stupid ugly little rock.
I feel his skull split and fall to pieces
And the sidewalk slick with its old treasures.
I smell the bile of passersby and the
Back of a state-of-the-art ambulance.
I am haunted by that wandering ghost;
By his friends and family and loved ones.
They whisper in my ear, keeping me safe.
Once not long ago I climbed a mountain
With only a pocket knife and notebook.
As I reached its peak the sun was rising,
Just like a movie, and I gasped for breath,
And I was flushed with warmth and a soft smile,
And I was the luckiest thing on earth.
I yelled and watched all the clouds dissipate.
I cried and felt the thunder below my feet.
The sun and I, the tallest monuments.
I wanted to hike through the forests,
And stroll down the palm-lined beaches,
And I asked you, my spirits, ghosts, banshees
How to let go of you all, and walk without fear
And to hold you in my heart, and to love
You forever without loathing myself.
And to miss the sounds of your voices that
Kept this knife from my throat and my blood on
The damp pages of this notebook.
And the world was silent for a moment,
And it and the sun all smiled with purpose,
And then my heart beat and I closed my eyes
And I felt the warmth and I bathed in it.