The Well
A poem
I walk the spiral arms
As I stride through space I see
What appears to be
A hole in reality
The maw of the Milky Way
A well, to contain your melancholy
At the heart of every galaxy
A depository, for your refuse
A container, for your soul
That you may pour its volume in
Darkness given shape, in four dimensions
Cozy and deep, to hide my maudlin wounds
Safe to crawl in, where even the light won’t reach
Stasis in a silent, starless void
Where acts good and vile vie
In blind struggle
Ready to be snuffed
Their strands cut by the Norns
In the cauldron of making
The cold black
This cul-de-sac
An oubliette where I abide
A resident, of increasing irrelevance
With no outside voice
To ablate my reflection
What street do I take?
Which decision should I make?
Each choice, a lottery
A quantum crap shoot
In arcane dimensions
Of human proportions
A seed, an egg
Filled with the promise of rebirth
Begun with a Bang
A cat, in a mortal juggling act
A magic trick, with an outcome
Already sawed in half
Straddled between the state of life
And oblivion
Imprisoned in a box, with a likely noxious influx
Trapped in a binary chance
Splitting a pair of opposites
That shackle our path in twain
Like a double-slit barrier
To measure which route the light chose
When it’s clear as a smear
Of subatomic particles buzzing in a swarm
That virtually anything is possible
But you must choose
Not await some contingency
Or the tap of circumstance on your shoulder
The prospect that a fluke may come along
And bounce you through
Choosing for you
Circumstances aligning a path of destiny
For the main character to take
Pulling you down, within
Until you face only yourself
Eyes folded inward
Gravity as proof of your struggle
Against the weight of your doubt
Taciturn as a quark, fickle as our feelings
Isn’t it funny
That superposition
Is waiting for you to decide
Where to look?
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Gravity as proof of your struggle
Against the weight of your doubt.
Excellent line.
This carried me through the vastness of space while reflecting something deeply human—the weight of choice, doubt, and the moments when we feel trapped inside ourselves. I especially felt the truth in the ending: sometimes countless possibilities remain before us, but eventually we must decide where to place our attention and take the next step.
Even the darkest inner void can become a place of rebirth when we stop waiting for circumstance to choose for us. Perhaps the way forward is not always revealed before we move; sometimes the path becomes visible because we finally choose to walk it. Powerful, layered, and beautifully written, my friend. 🤍✨🌌