If I were caught up high in the antlers of an elk—
Suspended on a precarious bed of bone and blanched, beautiful white;
So high that I might extend a pinky and, with it, caress the moon—
And if I found myself alone in this strange and eerie place,
High and far,
Far removed from the noises of the world:
Away from car honkings and child gigglings,
Crowd chatterings and phone ringings,
Away even from the sound of your voice.
It would be a haunting and sacred silence
Broken only by the silent sound of a great flower
Unfolding in ripples of water,
Down and far below.
And if I were to fall,
Would that great flower catch me
In its ever-blooming silence?
And would I be swallowed whole into its nectar-filled center,
Lost in folds of strong, sweet, silent smell?
Or would I hurtle from the blanched bed,
into a dizzying plummet,
crashing into a shattering silence?
In art we were assigned to do an abstract project; this piece was inspired by the image that I drew.