The radio said, Go to your shelters,
in such a low whisper that we stood there
in front of the set, not wanting to understand
it was not part of a play. The color of the blast
came high over the horizon. We stood watching,
still unable to make up our minds
that we were being killed for real.
We ran and are still running, it seems,
though our bodies have long since dropped
from us. We could be the wind
rushing through the trees or the stars
moving out to the perimeter. We know
we felt ourselves vanishing in flame and wind
and it seemed we were becoming either one
or both.
How then do we speak to you
without body or voice? Do you know
there is this other world, very silent,
which penetrates yours? Without your knowledge
or your feeling it you hear
every word I speak but do not see or feel me
anywhere at all. I have no sight or touch
of you but I speak because I am
from nowhere in particular. And now
can you tell me what it is to live
in the change, without trees or grass or houses?
I know you exist, you make curious impingements
upon my speech as it surrounds and penetrates
your body.
Where do you live,
now that there are no houses standing?
I remember my own house, my family
at the dining table entertaining friends.
We would discuss such a situation
that you’re in now, scarcely wanting
to acknowledge the future. We ate, drank
and discussed the politics of the nation.
Are you lying in a cave at rest?
Or waiting crouched for the enemy?
Do you have your family with you still,
comforting them with food?
What is your situation?
Once human as you, if I may presume
you have not changed in form, body
or mind, I hunger for a voice to fill an emptiness
in my speech which perhaps is what makes me invisible.
You can speak to me by standing perfectly still
where you are and breathing regularly.
I’ll understand that all is well again
for the human and leave, content with my condition.
Leave a Reply