Will o’ the wisp
Wanted or not, awake or asleep
endless thoughts spin out of nowhere
always weaving, turning.
Who knows
what brews in our skulls?
Fear, desire, memory, imagination
converge and merge,
grip and alert in a stream of vitality
that can swell to screaming point.
Moving with eyes shut,
groping for the way
in a crowded space
what – where – how
erupting and exploding
what – where – how
Why are you here?
Where do
you draw the line?
What line
do you draw?
What is your qi ?
Are you what you seem?
What note do you strike?
Fear, desire,
memory, imagination.
The mind baulks.
Hope for the future flickers, a will o’ the wisp.
Look back.
What do you dare admit?
Look forward.
What do you envision?
At what point
could a wishful dream
become a nightmare?
When does it become clear that the madness
that happened saved you
from a crazier fate?
Fear and desire, night after night
holding your breath,
playing cards,
at top speed,
the stakes getting higher.
Memory, imagination,
playing patience
every morning in a new light.
Hope whispers:
how will it turn out?
Corporeal consciousness
asks:
what can be done?
Prepare for the worst
and hope for the best.
Doris Kareva
Translated by Hilary Bird