what cannot be undone

What cannot be undone

I, too, have seen the paper tear –
the one with all the words I scribbled
thoughtlessly recklessly putting my soul down
where it could be seen
known.

I have heard the awful news
I have watched the mountain open up,
yawning blackness
hungry
heedless of me in its cavernous need

and the pushing wind that invisible
still
found my bones
and matched them
strength to strength and won
won it all
won me down,

while still invisible to you it ran along and past and on...

I, knees to floor and heart to hand to mouth
have not cried not even opened my eyes
but still looked
unwilling to see –
and unable to move, held in place by the wind that shoved me down
rudely
so rudely, I could not put a hand out to catch myself;

knees bleeding, was forced to slowly breathe in
the long exhalation of what
is not yet,
but could be
may be
and cannot be undone.

My hair still holds that smell
and sometimes the wind,
gentler now, but not less strong,
still capable of sudden rudeness -
sometimes the wind with a playful tug of my hair
brings the tears to my eyes that I have
not yet cried
but which I carry
in a private mountain,
with will alone,
holding caverns shut like gritted teeth.

So,
look away
or stay and dare
you may remember, even recognize -
or maybe even understand
some of what was scribbled there
before the cataclysm shut my eyes
cut my knees
jarred my bones and
bruised the air

before the paper’s tear…