Sanity is a state
of mind, he said,
which I visit
only from time to time.
It’s a dark and scary place
where a majority live
and that is reason enough
to dwell among the insane.
In our small world
night and day are separated
by dreams that escape
just beyond our consciousness.
We search for deeper meaning
even as we are certain
they will leave us as they have
long before we could remember.
That is the trouble with margins,
they ebb and flow without warning,
their arrivals and departures
unannounced, so listen carefully
and embrace the silence.
Outside, even the crows
are quiet this morning,
seeking a warmth
that eludes us all.
We all know winter
has finally arrived
as we shiver and try
so very hard to remember
the warmth of summer,
the bloom of the lilacs
and the magnolia petals
to mark our path.
He wasn’t sure he wanted it,
was fairly certain he did not,
and in that moment, was certain
he would get it, so he began
developing elaborate plans
on what to do with it when it arrived.
He laid them out in painful detail,
each step, each move
He waited patiently, each minute
washing into the next until
it was hours, then days, then months.
He reassessed his plans for it,
fine tuned them daily.
He grew older until one day
he could no longer remember
what it was, and moments
later it arrived, and there it sat
unseen and unrecognized.
In the deepest, darkest portion of night
we are taught that dreams reside, that they
are not real, figments, fragments of imagination,
woven into an evanescent tapestry
that disappears upon waking, leaving only
a faint shadow to indicate its once presence.
Many like to believe this, for it
relieves them of ownership of dark thoughts
that night can unleash, like dogs of war.
To the dreamer, the dream is no less real
than the experience when awake, more real
on some occasions, so ask yourself
what if the dream is reality and
your waking existence is the fiction
and what is the difference which is correct
or if neither is, and dreams are
all the substance of our universe.
She said, “As we get older
we start to come from the place
we only wished we were from,
and the place from which we came,
becomes the place from which
we are now glad we never visited.”
He said, “As I age, my youth changes,
and the things I say I did are increasingly,
the things I wish I had done,
and what I did and wish I hadn’t
are things that now never happened.”
She smiled, “it’s hard to believe
that now we never met in that one place
neither of us says we have been,
and yet here we are
in the midst of our created history.”
Strangely enough I can
imagine Segasa Tokugawa
standing on the parapet
of Osaka Castle saying
only a fool like Toyotomi
either father or son
would wage a war on Korea
to expand his empire
and stand here and say
while so many at home
mourned the loss of sons
or innocence, or both
but things will be better now
for I have learned
the lesson of history.