I am the one who always returns

I am the one who always returns

when the apartment is empty,

but thoughts fill the places of the guests.

They, in their insanity, take seats around my bed.

Mourning and urging a past left in the dust.

But those voices tempt godliness

through manifestation from this dust

the making of Adam-- yet only a demon

of illusion, of great deception. 

To be underwhelmed and overwhelmed is 

to turn an hourglass on its side

Like time has stopped, but who does not live

at some angle or another? 

Yet here I am, seemingly upright, no slant, 

no give. The sand of my schema does not move

as I stand paralyzed like a victim of the Gorgon,

heart beating, stuck in my own gray, unmoving, 

world. 

Save me, Perseus! Come back!

There are no monsters in the West, 

except the ministers of Fear.

They keep the rest at bay, more frozen

than I, while sheltered in place-- safe at home. 

Bring life and time back to this frozen soul.

Bring with them color and motion.

Restore the eternal offering with great fire 

in the Sanctuary of this life,

for I am the one who always returns.