I feel heavy.
My head, my thoughts
have become lengthy, sluggish,
somewhat confused, from within
however, what I see does not
escape me and the awareness passes
through the thick wall.

I am slow.
I should say I feel
slow in comparison to the onslaught
of things invading the space I occupy
if only for this moment.

I feel somewhat disconnected,
one foot here and the other
elsewhere, but I do not have
a sense of where that is.

My forehead is filled with
cement, a gradual process that
started when the sun rose
and I feel different
I feel shifted, but I
do not know the catalyst
or where I am going.

One by one small rain drops
paint crude circles
on the cement walkway, remnants
of the impact make their own
mark some distance away from the center
of ground zero and over time the object
we see changes completely,
lost within or without
awareness of the gradual shift taking place
before our eyes and when the mind registers
the wavering reality, the line between two worlds,
I struggle to explain, desire to keep
a tangible hold of the world I knew through
an object, thought or emotion.

I am left with no choice
but to carry forward
my thought laden mind
becoming a burden as the
shift infiltrates the nervous system
and bloodstream to be transported
to all of me and I make
the decision for acceptance and allow
this change to take place.

within the streaming light and energy
I am me, I am the shifted me.

William Ricci has been writing poetry for 20 years, with varied styles (free verse, haiku, experimental) and topics (fragments, European cultures, politics, creation, spirituality, previous lives and ancient times). His recent publications include a poem, "A Visit," at Whistling Shade, and an article entitled "Alaska: Experience and Open Doors" at The Loft. When searching for his muse, he travels, hikes, seeks sources of water and experiments with prairie restoration. Please contact him at wlricci@provenlife.com.

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