Rolling Boulders

A sliver of hopeful light

creeps into a

Pitch black hallway

Light greets shadow

Shall we dance?

We shall dance.

A Tango, perhaps

Writer with beloved muse.

Cha-cha-cha-ing or

Sashaying gently.

Hips hip hopping

Gyrating with blues.

On beat, off beat

Labor and delivery

Contracting uncontrollably

Once easy, then torture

Pushing, more pushing

Purging, releasing.

Delighting and despising,

Laughing then forgiving,

Agonizing for creating

Mimicking or judging

Loving and fearing

Crying then breathing.

What wants to be born?

What is longing to die

A crashing death?

What begs to awaken

That’s seen ages in cages?

What words will stomp

Boldly, or sneak in

with trepidation?

Embracing not knowing.

The most soulful space

Of the “I don’t know”.

Which new path will appear

While the unmovable

Boulders magically

Begin rolling away?