Everything is fine.


Everything is fine. I’m fine.

I say as I wander aimlessly from distraction to distraction, trembling and loath to confront it.

But deep within me like a claw scraping at my guts, there is terror. There is despair.

It haunts me, “the end is nigh, you will fade into darkness, dust to the wind.”

“Silence,” I command it as beads pass between my knuckles, “Silence.”

Am I clinging to a hope? Enchanted by the warbling of a nightingale perched upon the twigs of a tree that grows betwixt certainty and emptiness. I grow weary.

This heaving and wrenching, it pains my bowels.

The others pity me and invite me to their games – distractions to occupy my angst and snuff out the soul with spirits, to cheer the spirit with revelry.

They speak of the moment, to seek pleasure in each breath – to pant like a hound seeking sustenance till overcome by frailty, then die like a stray upon the boiling tar.

But I am compelled towards purpose. My heart, as it throbs, gives life to my limbs and empowers my being to advance towards something — ascendence to goodness? And the nightingale intones melodious psalms, revealing truth to my heart; the claw is tamed by its gentle sermons.

The keepers of law summon me to reason. They strangle the nightingale and stem its sweet song, then pluck its iridescent plumes, exposing its flesh. The frailty of its form is revealed. Its power, subdued.

I am disgusted by their violence, unsettled by their irreverence…and I miss the warmth of the nightingale’s song.

But its song grows faint. I can barely feel its warmth.

Curled and quaking in the shadows I yearn for the nightingale that once perched in my heart. I fumble in the dark as the claw rakes at my insides, and wander aimlessly from distraction to distraction.

Everything is fine. I’m fine.


  1. You have captured beautifully a deep existential, or is it spiritual alone, conundrum? Glad to see your soulful poetic side take its rightful place beside the policy oriented one?

    Unless you enlighten me
    I will have to wonder what you mean by law keepers….and then forget to
    wonder more because something has distracted me..

    1. Hi Maury, I always appreciate the fact that you take the time to comment on my posts. I want to spend more time hangin’ with uncle Maury, if you’re ever in town. I miss you and Helen so much.

      To answer your question, by “law keepers” I think I’m broadly referring to the positivists or those who reduce all of reality to the realm of physical law. I call them “keepers” in a pejorative sense because they often act like “gatekeepers” to what is true – and what is true is what they can derive through sensory experience.

      Make sense?

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