Little by Slowly
I inch upward
little by slowly
from this ledge
in this abyss
where earth gave way beneath me--
dropping further than I thought my land could drop.
I look up,
see a climb that will outlive me,
take notice in the dim
of varied walls and sides surrounding:
sides with sheared and slippery walls,
sides where I could sculpt and garden,
sides where (little by slowly)
They rise from below me.
They lead the way--way above me.
They pause alone to sculpt and
I shall climb to those nearby:
to those who will outlive abyss,
to those who will pull and push my old bones,
to those who need my stubbornness,
and to those who will feast from my memory
of what was earth above
Despite shrinking time and diminished strength,
I have returned
from the abyss where earth gave way beneath me--
from where I looked up
to a climb I expected to outlive me.
There were shadows and voices
rising from below,
they would soothe then scold,
come then go,
pull then push.
They would ask then remind
of my memory
of what was earth before collapse.
Little by slowly,
(so little so slowly)
(remote then sudden)
I stand to see
the great expanse
reality and memory now dance.