We who won’t be moved

    Despite proclaiming I’d never be
    Moved, my knees seem weak, my
    Feet slide, I stumble, and stagger
    Several steps toward a
    Solid-seeming stone-worked
    Arch.  I stand, shocked
    At what is before me.

    Looking into that space
    I desperately wanted to
    Go back– return to my
    Study’s safe-haven and
    See round about those I’d
    Come to depend upon for
    Stability during this holding-fast.

    I laid my hand upon the first
    Thing that came to mind
    And held it while the world spun.
    “Look you,” an old man said
    To a child as they passed by.
    “That man has hold of a
    Monstrous thought and can’t let go.