...Penumbra...
Shuddering in the flash-fire of disposable culture,
we slay another part of our identity,
just to conform
to norms we do not understand.
Mechanisms of fear overcome us,
and desperately we return to the birth womb,
deep within the hollowed corpse of our inner child,
taking refuge where sunlight can no longer burn our psyche.
There,
godless and alone,
covered in mythic residue,
we pondered our fate,
forced to recall our past lives in color,
forced to understand
that we have lived and died a thousand times
and this season
is only one of many
spent in the swirling currents of the undertow.
How many more times?
Michael Lohr
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