Island of Man

A Poem by Malleabus

When all things are carefully considered man discovers that he, in fact, IS truly an island and one which is absolutely confined to his own region of psychic action.

..."we see you are troubled", say those from afar, as they row by my island, passed my rough little shore. " you needn't suffer alone, for many hearts have concern.", say they "...and await to drop anchor, yes to lift up the forlorn."

And I rise from my stoop at the call from within, of a faint little spark which has been long now fading. Perhaps, I imagine in a wearied attempt, perhaps just this once I will prove myself wrong and these beings, these voices will evince themselves sound.

What a pleasure, indeed, shall it be to my soul when uncountable notions collapse in this sea, when unassailable cognizance crashes and crumbles. Ah, the joy that will follow to see beyond sight and to feel that my boundary is an ingress instead.

Long ago I arrived here by the force of a tempest. I was thrown without mercy through a blitz of dark waves; an onslaught 'twas churned up around my small scow. When everything settled only one thing was certain; I was stranded alone and no help could be found.

Many times I heard chatter, saw faces, felt hugs; these turned out to be breezes, mere phantoms and dreams. Yet I cherished such dreams for as long as I could...they, for me, were vestiges of what I held to be good.

"Ahoy!", did I shout, in a desperate exertion; an attempt of a spirit long fated to bane. As a man held by shackles feels the softest elation whence by chance the sun passes through a crack in the wall, so was I this last moment moved to natural action. Oh,the hope which I summoned, how it filled me that day. Just for a second I bathed in this conjured intemperance.

"Ahoy!" I heard echoed from the beings approaching, "ahoy", once again as they neared and they neared. But the strangest thing happened as their distance grew shorter, for their words became fainter and their forms grew disturbed. They arrived and dropped anchor and we ran towards embrace. I held tightly the grip that created my state. Then I noticed the voices were my own lonely words, the figures were notions and the touch became cold.

As my heart that day dined on it's usual sorrow, my mind came intrigued just a bit as I pondered. How strange it did seem to my stranded perception all the life which occurred amongst these precious mirages. There's a world shared amongst them which can only be seen from afar, from my island and in the form of a dream...