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Your Buddha

7/17/2097

 
Shots Of Silver
I find my back up against the same wall.

I turn and face it; I press up against it.


It seems unyielding, only crumbling slightly now and again.


I have tried going over it, under it, around it.


It remains.


I realize that I must go through it, though that seems impossible.


I stare at the wall and notice the faint glimmer of symbols--
symbols that seem to hold clues about the origin and makeup of the wall--
symbols that seem to hold clues about me.


They offer diffuse visions of what is on the other side.


I press—a slight crumbling.
I press—a slight crumbling.


More symbols flitter over the surface.


My life becomes a study of these symbols.


Ages pass and the wall dissolves into the sands of time.


I remain.

    

       Written Content   G.A.M.  cc
       Up Against The Wall    Vegas
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Shots Of Silver
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