Conquering Chaos

Downward into the depths,

struggle past streams

of chaos.

A darkness so definite,

so seemingly steadfast,

It’s almost pure.

Murmurs and faces come and go

before I’m allowed to fathom

that I’m lost and afraid.

Numbers whiz by me like bullets;

it’s enough din to let me know

I’ll break.

I find the surface.

I grasp out for familiar structures

like a child.

I do not see the others I left back at the shore;

they couldn’t take the plunge;

maybe they were right.

I gasp for air.

My lungs fill with the fruit

of the nearest wave.

Something in the corner of my eye catches my attention.

I turn like a man facing battle.

‘Tis odd, some shimmering light.

The storm blurs it at the edges but it’s ever-present,

and then I am reminded

what it was I came here for.

For there in the clouds,

that strange and new suggestion,

is truth.

It’s as strong and proud as Mt. Olympus,

and its whisper is deafening

as the chaos falls away.