February 17, 2005
The Spiral Stairs
I climb the spiral stairs, circling round
round, again and again, stepping up,
dizzy already, looking forward -
Breathing hard, but hardly moving.
It begins to look familiar - Have I been
here before? No, I’m further up
the spiral, leaning as I go.
Climbing to larger views. Circling I ascend,
round again thoughts return, experiences repeat.
Dropping inconsequentials along the way,
outgrown clothing left behind.
As I (who am I?) climb (to where?)
the spiral stairs encircle me, I climb into nothing,
a center place where memories, joy
and sorrow, circle, spiral, out and in.
I climb in and out of darkness, Shall I look back?
"No, do not look back." keep going...
step into the question again, and again.
The only step that matters is the one I am on.
I have not been here before. Spiraling closer
and closer to the light. Consciously
climbing round out again.
As I (who?) step, losing myself
Climb into silence, no sound of footsteps.
uniquely alone now, this is a singular
No one pushing or pulling.
No reference. I hold an invisible thread.
I...nothing, emerging, dissolving into light.