Cris de Borja

The earth trembled, but only where I stood
And the sky, no longer blue, split a seam
Shivering, I gasped within the fog
As in the moment waking from a dream

Overturned, the basket of the world
Spilled out the messy contents of my head
I leaped for down, but upward made my fall
I reached for peace, and found my love instead

My thoughts spin, and from that spindle drops
A thread of rich and variegated hues
And while I sit here plucking at the knots
To salvage wisps of floss that I can use

Then thread through a needle of my hope
And patch the gaping rends within the skies
The earth trembles — but only where I am
As if the universe has grown in size

11/16/07