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,

Head first

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.