ESTRANGED

Michael Keshigian

Midnight and he walked

the narrow trail away from the lake,

becoming aware of night’s blackness,

isolation and mystery

surrounded him upon the winding path

as the breeze followed, its breath chilling,

sending a shudder to his core.

He gazed up, implored the stars for comfort,

but was astonished at their minuteness

within the immensity of ceiling.

Life is more meaningful when he ponders

beneath the leaves of the great oak in his yard,

his children enhancing gaiety instead of the smallness

that now invades his being,

him, an infinitesimal, singular particle

meandering in the dark,

lost in the complexity of an explanation.

There have been times, under the same set of stars,

when his eyes widened

and the folds of his brain absorbed

those blinking messages from the universe

that transformed him into the nature

of all things, belonging

to an existence much larger than himself,

a child of the cosmos, his mind

a tiny compression of space dust

that saw beyond the veil of all things

without a need for explanation.

But indeed, on this night,

the invisible hand has dropped the curtain.

He is afraid to float, perhaps drown

in this sea of black without notice.

He searches for the moon or a guiding light

for passage, perhaps the sun will arrive early

to show him the way.