Dante's dart

i remember quite clearly the night i took on the worlds sadness as my own
pink baby-doll pajamas with ruching of blue flowers
8 yrs old gold
kneeling on a canopy bed
leaning upon the open window sill
leaning
and
gazing into the world
late
dark
quiet
twinkling stars
unable to fend off this as yet unnamed despair i tasted on that blue moonlight on snow night
a parade of heartache, loneliness & pain leaked under my skin leaving its burn ...
. . . an ancient, folded & forgotten mahogany woman pacing to & fro across some cracked damp floor
. . . a solitary soldier cold & wet loosing his humanity with every step,
there -
. . . a frightened child with dark eyes hiding from the sharp sting of thoughtlessness
. . . a small boney white dog homeless, not understanding how gentle hands can be
a stolen life
a fearful task
a lonely death
dantes dart landed upon my heart
no amount of pink groovy psychedelic sunshine could stop the march upon the fabric of my soul
so began my ritual, my telling mark:
kneeling upon my pink groovy bedspread in my pink groovy sunshine life
every nite
gazing out & up at the stars wishing for strength
wishing for magic
wishing for enough love to shoulder
dantes dart