© by Karen Greatbatch
I journey down the passage of untidy unlit caverns,
Screaming for help, but again, nothing happens.
Ahead I see a shape; the shape becomes a creature;
his lips red,
I'll never come down
this way again.
Running back to familiar ground,
the world is dark, without one sound.
Creeping, sneaking around the next corner,
and what I see amazes me,
I've discovered my most feared place,
so large, expansive, and sable.
Burns on hanging cloth like expanding sun,
no loss of movement yet so unable,
My eyes grew wide, my breath came fast
as hastily I turned and fled.
My motion slowed, my breath was gone.
A friend informed me I was dead.
I rose from within myself, looked down to see
my lifeless body in the road; it wasn't really me,
I'd experienced an amazing journey,
the shibboleth, a find,
discovery of what my life had become;
for I had visited my own mind.