The Wandering Light
Oh, Sun….where art thou?
The wandering light…
it always knows.
It sees my reflection,
While I see dark.
Sirens scream me into existence.
Blood pressure cuffs tighten,
Beep beep. What’s the score?
Game points, ticking down.
Pressure. It has me in a headlock.
Next stop? Hospital.
Stigma caught in violent seas.
I can’t see the light from my thin sheets.
Lost in the shadow cast by tall PhD’s.
The squeak of their shoes threatens to suffocate me.
The squeak on polished courts strengthened me.
Under galaxies of stars,
My soul drifts to warmer skies.
Visions of a happy father. Loving mother. Peace.
Friends who accepted me.
Sweaty basketball games where all I knew was the game.
The bulb of my reflection is flickering.
Reflections of
a life filled with pleasure stretch thin.
3-pointers. In. Free throw. In. I will win this game.
The game smiles back. “First? First, you must learn.”
You’d find me laughing.
Smiling.
Sun…where art thou?
Nights…nights are all I see.
Some nights…I transform into something else.
I wake up, stars rising.
My neighbors…they see.
My friends…they see.
Paranoia knocks at my door.
Fear opens the eye-hole.
There is a light behind me,
Yet…I can’t see it.
Will I ever?
Can I unfold my love to someone
If I don’t love myself?
Mirror to mirror,
An infinite sea of strangers.
Who is Rohan?
The light flies around the room.
Taunting me.
I fail to see Sun in the mirror.
The moon hovers above me.
calling.
“I’m right here Rohan. And you can’t see me.”
It tortures me. I must find this light.
Fear turns to skin, cut deep.
My neighbors look through my window…
Still…I don’t see them.
Love will never know me.
I will never know love.
Is this my reflection?
The Sun smiles through the clouds.
Oh son, what are you doing?
Bulbs call my name.
Visions of glancing over my shoulder….
Is that who I am?
Blood spilled on a page, but it isn’t mine.
My past selves line up in a reflection…
A reflection of torn sheets…
Whispers of the Sun.
For light is shining through the rays,
yet my blinds are closed.
Fear traps my heart.
“Knock knock. I’m back.”
It has thrown away the sharp edge.
Now tantalizing me with what was.
Paranoia looks through the peephole.
Looking into its eyes, I see my lonely boat.
The sterile napkins…they keep coming back.
I reach for the Sun.
I need the Sun.
Sirens grab by shoulders,
I am pulled backward.
Through all the talking at the hospital,
I hear it calling my name.
“You have it in you.”
My neighbors. Do they see?
Do they see what I see
In a reflection of strangers?
“I knew you would come.”
“I knew you would survive.”
The bulbs come back,
this time with visions of knife on steel.
Images in the steel reflect my being.
They show me who I was.
My neighbors laugh.
They don’t see.
This time…this time I’m ready.
I stumble, grabbing the railings
that keep the misery within.
Torn pages. Broken bulbs. Light, so attractive, yet so deceitful.
Sterile napkins. Tall PhDs.
The wandering light is a ghost.
Coming, gone, but always there.
A mind in turmoil.
I flip the switch.
Mental camera, playing a movie.
I see my friends. The care of a mother. The smile of a proud father.
Curry. Swish. I’m back.
Sweaty games stand in my mirror.
These are not strangers.
The net shivers as I regain my marbles.
I…I choose…I CHOOSE YOU. Please. Take me back.
Ignoring the intruders, I extend my hand.
Warmth fills me. It enters my mouth
and travels down to my heart.
It patches the wounds. Scars of battle,
Battle with myself.
I crack the blinds.
The light shines through the mirror, and finally…
Finally I see.
Hovering outside my window: a galaxy of wounded Suns.
Hundreds of people just trying to find a spark.
The Sun is shining down.
And I know. This is me.
✍ — Edited and Published by , at Dancing Elephants Press. Click here for submission guidelines.
