Is it an hallucination <br />that my own joy <br />so captures my imagination, <br />rising from the pinks of my toes <br />to the highest-peaked curl <br />on this non-existent hairstyle? <br /> <br />Is it my imagination <br />that without any deliberation <br />on my part, <br />I have excitement <br />pulsating from my heart? <br /> <br />Is it just me? <br /> <br />Surely, <br />it is not just personally <br />that I see streams of gold <br />in leaves, <br />the sheer green-ness of trees, <br /> <br />that the clouds are perfectly white, <br />that the sun is more bright <br />than Icarus might ever have known? <br /> <br />Have I simply been shown <br />(or shown by myself, to me) <br />revealed, unfurled, <br />that this is the best of all possible worlds? <br /> <br />Ah, <br />I have been asleep for a hundred years, <br />holding back the tears; <br /> <br />and wiping them away I did not drown. <br /> <br /> <br />I smile; <br />and my rejuvenated self, <br />somewhat pretty, somewhat clever, <br />will endure not just for a little while <br />but forever; <br />as long as my own forever may be. <br /> <br />I see, <br />now. <br /> <br />Was the grass always this green? <br /> <br />Or does it just seem so, <br />now that my eyelids are open? <br />Now that I am no longer broken.... <br /> <br />Why has the world <br />suddenly revealed itself, anew? <br /> <br />It is not because of you, or you, <br /> <br />or perhaps it is; <br />I think on this, <br /> <br />and I ride the wild horses in any wind; <br /> <br />there remains yet <br />so much world to be refound.<br /><br />Tara McH<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/awakening-51/
