As still as the unopened charts at my side I sat in a chair too heavy to move
And pushed so close to the corner walls it couldn’t recline.
I sat for hours as my volition slipped into the autumn dusk.
And these keys I am a slave to had nothing to give.
So I took my empty shell to those that hold my soul,
But when they fell flat like a row of dominoes
I fell below the register of sound.
I walked to the field in my winter coat and summer shoes
Over earth and stones that speak without words.
I opened with the last of my dreamy whims
And the dying leaves as they fell were a song more precious than melody
to and from everything in a state of glorious suspension!
Into the depth of Spirit that opens my sense and sets me free!
Think I’m a drama queen?
Think again, or don’t, I don’t really care.
Think I’ll slip out the side EXIT and leave the world on its stage.
Think I’m exaggerating?
Think maybe, or not, I can’t really tell anymore.
Think I’ll just keep to my cage.
Think I’m depressed?
Think so, but compared to what?
Think nothing of it, as always, that would be best.
I wonder when the contents of my bag started to spill? But does it matter if I didn’t know that I was dropping what I do not miss?
I am waylaid by Beauty.
Who would come between me and the crying of the frogs?
Oh, savage Beauty, suffer me to pass,
That am a timid woman, on her way
From one house to another!
_Edna St. Vincent Millay