Fracture

 

Gliding along the reach of all her renditions;

The expanse of ice forming all plausible ambitions.

Her stream of art sweeps across the glistened mirrors

With nothing but a smile - to mask her terrors.

With a whisk and a spin, she laps along the ledges

And then, pivots suddenly to keep centered on her edges.

The translucent scene a dream of Elysian fields

Where range and destiny are resplendent in good feels.

 

Turning and spinning; sweeping, leaping, and yearning

– yearning…

 

Riding along; time and place note a fracture; an unevenness.

No angst; a minor bump or two; mere tests of cleverness.

Skate on skater!  – Skate on! The forming clouds shall pass - too?

Those gossamer cloudscapes will move on; will it not be so?

Oh! the promise, in the long horizon, has refuted its vision; denied claim?

A gray cast has crept in and befallen the eye; driven by a name.

The days of yore (no longer clear) a hazy sense; muted by mist

That portends that the blue-skies will be set to a dark twist –

 

Turning and spinning; sweeping, leaping, and yearning

– yearning…

 

 The floor’s horizontal plane inverts - into a defying vertical plumb.

The once smooth surface and glide; a treacherous scrum.

The fall, a precipitous disengagement from hand and anchor

As life’s pillars and pedestals cascade by - in bewildering abhor.

Ropes and clamps and ties plummet down the fracture’s face.

Racing thoughts and notes of the whyfor - fly off without trace.

Scattering about like small birds fleeing the hawk’s breath;

The weightless fall a dizzying tumble to a certain death.

 

Turning and spinning; sweeping, leaping, and yearning

– yearning…

 

The sloping surface, smooth as glass, without a hold to keep;

He grasps; grappling, clenching at survival he reaches his deep.

Ah a fracture! A break found to stop and hold from the perilous descension.

Now a breath; a long respite and contemplation to seek redemption.

The trek back will neither be a climb nor be a return - but be whatever is forth.

Gliding is no longer expected nor even possible – simply follow north.

Whoever makes it back at the campfire – they are survivors; friends

Who seek test and pursue life-quests to the very ends.

 

Turning and spinning; sweeping, leaping, and yearning

– always, yearning…