I.
The black ruin exploded
on that cold night,
A drenching rain hid a peril,
unseen.
With lighting strikes
a thunderous white,
we drove in that hour late,
lost and wandering.
The dark road
stretched like a tight rope,
with twisted, wooded boughs
cloaked around.  
We searched the thick shadows
and kept hope,
but chaos is all we found.
Praying for safe passage,
clutching the wheel in fear,  
clinging to the way forward,
but the way was still unclear…
Suddenly
the elements flashed a
dagger of jagged disaster --  
we veered violently,
with vertiginous swerve and swallow.
sheer horror revealed
a visage, eviscerated –
eyes of deep pitch
and bone, hollow.  
Broke and black marrow, portends
no tomorrow;
shattering glass,
splintering wood,
shredding tires,
spilling blood.
Both of us cast into crushing trauma.
…I faded into a murk of the mind,
of Stygian sentience,
slipping beyond, resigned…

II.
Emerging back from a
wild twilight,
where I lingered,
drifting in a diffuse dusk
of a subconscious
dream…
with a flood
of shock sensations!
I awoke to a world of
twisted metal and wicked pain,
extreme.
…“This is really happening?!”
flashed across my mind,
as I struggled to free myself from
the maw of debris.
I could not tell the time or location
of place or friend, but there came
flashing lights and helpful
souls, rushing to attend.
In and out of temporal existence,
my eyes dreary --
heart beat shallow,
impressions of
people and rooms
were bleary.
Numb in my safety,
skating on the surface of an
induced calm, I thought,
“I am in their care.  I can only let go and
let someone else steer.”  
But I waver to explore
the depths of the well
in which I fell;
I can’t yet grasp what transpired,
and I recoil from the traps --
I resist,
I deny,
I withdraw,
I collapse.  

III.
The wet, dark, twisted
walls rise,
reaching high
and ringed around.
she sheltering shock
subsides, and in this
well of pain I drown.
It was only after many hours,
from the moment of
impact,
the difficult work
finally began.
To try to come to terms with
the meaning of this hard fact,
to wash the fear from my heart
and the blood from my hands.
With bracing clarity
I realized
how close to death
I had wandered.
All that my life stood for
and meant was crystallized,
and yet
there was so much weakness
and Fear I had not
conquered.
…And the tears rained down,
drenching my face…
I reeled in despair, clutching
in anguish at the reality,
my mind was white
with grief.
My short life had conceived no honor,
no art,
no lasting vitality!
A legacy of wisdom and
love was imperiled,
nearly stolen by that
phantasmal and cloaked thief.  

IV.
Reaching out through the tears,
calling on my savior for help,
I cried out for a way through
the shadow, clinging to
a hope.
Through the blur
of hot sadness came
a human face, with eyes
sending love, healing, empathy, and care…
Her voice and presence was
as an angel from above.
Her tender heart
struck like a thunderbolt
of compassion.  
I was instantly drawn out
from the deathly well,
and the darkness was
dissolved;
I was saved from Hell.  
this Motherly embrace
came and whispered soft
words of consolation,
as she held my soul aloft.  
I felt my hope
returning, I saw my
life revived.
This dawn,
I was thankful that
from black ruin
I survived.

"The world is WIDE and I travel it!
The world has a secret and I SEEK it!”,
Said I, as I sailed off one day
To follow tales of distant shores,
With untrammeled frontiers,
****** and pure!

Yielding to the demand of my disquieted soul,
“Voyage!” she cried, and I set upon my goal:
To stretch forth the extremities of my
Ambition -- to penetrate
The veil of all unknowing;
To heed to the heady lure
Of discovery,
Carried by the west wind, blowing!
The path I run will cost me years, and
I must try to go the distance.
But this is a longing for life undiluted,
Quaffed deep and savored
As a Barolo vintage,
Noble and intense.

Maps of her forbidding hinterlands were
Vouchsafed by Mariner Kings of ancient days.
I consulted the coded charts for clues, and
Configured the gilded astrolabe.
Obsession ruled my motives as I
Poured over sea-faring strategies.
The sagacious scrolls became a cypher,
Whispering exotic rumors
Of pleasures and possessions,
Steeped in rich antiquities.

My fertile mind was seized
By these boundless visions,
As the time came for our enterprise.
I shouted to my stalwart company,
“The road forward will not be forgiving,
But the rewards gained will outrageous fortune comprise!”

Our quest divided the latitudes as a
Scimitar separates flesh from bone.
My ship slashed the longitudes as we
Sought passage far from home.
My desire encircled her sensuous shape,
For she is a mistress, supple and warm.
This journey provided the means of escape, for
From the Tome of Glory these pages were torn!

Hence, joyously exulting, I made clear my claim,
“Wisdom is a treasure divine!
Adventure is the blood inflamed!”

My mad dream was unleashed and
I will always remember the day.
I was free to sail my heart’s tidal-course,
Venturing forth, far and away!

Upon his easel a half-finished work,
The secret labor of his studio,
Said from the canvas, so that none might err,
‘I am the Countess Laura.’ Carlo kneeled,
And gazed upon the picture; as if thus,
Through those clear eyes, he saw the way to
Heaven.
Then he arose; and as a swimmer comes
Forth from the waves, he shook his locks aside,
Emerging from his dream, and standing firm
Upon a purpose with his sovereign will.
He took his palette, murmuring, ‘Not yet!’
Confidingly and softly to the corpse,
And as the veriest drudge, who plies his art
Against his fancy, he addressed himself
With stolid resolution to his task,
Turning his vision on his memory,
And shutting out the present, till the dead,
The gilded pall, the lights, the pacing guard,
And all the meaning of that solemn scene
Became as nothing, and creative Art
Resolved the whole to chaos, and reformed
The elements according to her law:
So Carlo wrought, as though his eye and hand
Were Heaven’s unconscious instruments, and
Worked
The settled purpose of Omnipotence,
And it was wondrous how the red, the white,
The ochre, and the umber, and the blue,
From mottled blotches, hazy and opaque,
Grew into rounded forms and sensuous lines;
How just beneath the lucid skin the blood
Glimmered with warmth; the scarlet lips apart
Bloomed with the moisture of the dews of life;
How the light glittered through and underneath
The golden tresses, and the deep, soft eyes
Became intelligent with conscious thought,
And somewhat troubled underneath the arch
Of eyebrows but a little too intense
For perfect beauty; how the pose and poise
Of the lithe figure on its tiny foot
Suggested life just ceased from motion; so
That any one might cry, in marveling joy,
‘That creature lives, -- has senses, mind, a soul
To win God’s love or dare hell’s subtleties!’
The artist paused. The ratifying ‘Good!’
Trembled upon his lips. He saw no touch
To give or soften. ‘It is done,’ he cried, --
‘My task, my duty! Nothing now on earth
Can taunt me with a work left unfulfilled!’
The lofty flame, which bore him up so long,
Died in the ashes of humanity;
And the mere man rocked to and fro again
Upon the centre of his wavering heart.
He put aside his palette, as if thus
He stepped from sacred vestments, and assumed
A mortal function in the common world.