The Reopening Poem by Jeremy Horsford

Where am I? !

I do not recognise the darkness, the silence, the drumbeat of nothingness.

I feel the heat of those who some say live infinitely unconscious. Is there a message in all of this?

I feel like I have sleep walked through an architecture of vanity. My belief is a pivot to something uneasy. Why me?

What is it that I do not seem to understand? They speak, but their whispers are vacant seeking vessels for immigration. I ask again, is there a message in this sea of contention?

The nothingness of that drumbeat becomes something, pounding the whispers, pounding the waves and descending onto the living.

The unfamiliar becomes familiar exposed by a realignment with composure.

Moments before a postmortem. It is time for me to return.