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The Attic

Watching dust float silently through air
So many universes
In a spotlight of sunbeams
Pouring in through holes in the attic roof.

I stand bewildered by the cleansing feeling
of the light that shone upon us, and the
over whelming need to stand and scream.

I’m running
Away from something
No, toward something, someone
Someone is running from me.
Am I the villain here?

I give chase and run after the runner
shouting hey stop I just want to talk
he’s faster than me though, and younger,
wait a minute I recognize… it can’t be,
though can it the runner is me.

Slowly, I turn
Facing the wavering form of myself
Shapeshifting as layers of denial fall away
Until my essesnce is revealed.

A white light is not the same as a white lie.
the eessence of myself says, be humble and show
forgiveness and all will come then he turns and runs.

I slowly place my old running shoes back in the box
Filled with other shoes of bygone eras of my life
It’s time for lunch, my stomach informs me
I head back downstairs making a mental note
To fix those holes in the roof before the rains come.