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Between the layers
lies a collective confusion
about why we’re stuck
in a place where we know
to go
up or down.
Behind the iron door
in a space where there is no place
for joy or terror
in a place where we know
we should go
up or down.
Where the walls replaced
the once brilliant views
where there were no walls
there are now caverns of confusion
in a place where we know
to go up or down.
We move, we follow,
we express our sorrow.
But what do we do?
We pry open the iron door where we know
to go
up or down.
Laughter subsides
and we all arise
awakened to the choices
awakened by the voices
of the children playing
and the trees are swaying
away from the collusion
and much confusion
form the place where we know
to go
neither up nor down.
— Wendy Who Walks With Wildflowers
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