My descent into meaning
Peter Wood
pace by pace I stumble
through a brief corridor haunted
with statues of demons glowing
from purple-red lights perched above
with flowing satin draped behind
farther below a chamber presents itself
teeming with ecstasy raw unkept
the air neither hot nor cold and
slowly filling with a brisk fog
which rises from floor to nostrils
entranced in the aura I feel awake
yet divorced from sudden movement
after years of searching I have arrived
my home an abode where clocks tock
echoing from hardwood unseen
this might have scared me before
dark mysterious and uncertain
but much of what I once feared
is now the apex of who I became
so I walk gently toward the ether
eyelids sealed I immerse myself
in either an orgy of bodies or spirits
unconcerned with which it is
chest calm and mind whispering
to the rhythm of a dangling pocketwatch
