Reckoning
A Big Wind rattles glass and frame,
From a greenhouse, a child calls my name.
A word, a warning, a waking anew—
I’ve stepped into a world I once walked through.
I tread through a root cellar, damp and deep,
And shadows like snakes and bats do creep.
The scent of cuttings, raw and bright,
mingles with something far from right.
Macabre echoes from a past undone,
where voices shiver, one by one.
“I am!” said the lamb in urgent refrain,
but the fire’s shape flickers in vain.
A storm arrives in the far field beyond,
I see the meadow mouse and a fate foregone.
The geranium wilts in its minimal cup,
while sloth and silence swallow me up.
In a dark time, I once did dwell,
a journey into the interior hell.
Yet, like a visitant, I return once more,
seeking the thing, right past the door.
I recall her grace, how I knew a woman
who danced through pain, whose steps grew human.
A reckoning, a turning, a night journey near—
her voice still lingers, distant, clear.
Through the darkness, past the fire’s remains,
I reach for the threshold, yet courage feigns—
An open door, empty house, a haunting call,
I enter a world reformed from ashes and all.
WoPoLi 
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