The Mole

Shhhhh……..She’s here.
Why can’t anyone else hear her?
She walks beside me
Sometimes silent, but ever present.
Pressing closer
Enveloping me in a winter mist.

Silent now, but a single word
Or deed can trigger her relentless chatter.
On my back now, the weight of Atlas’ world
On my shoulders.
She shouts in my ears.

I hold my face and scream
But my screams fall silently upon the ground
Like undigested bits of a former meal.
I slip to my knees and plead to
The universe to grant my wish.

To become a mole.
To crawl into a small cave
Cover myself with dirt and
Sleep ‘til death
Wrapped in the comforting arms
Of mother earth.

Damn the mole, for its natural instinct
To tunnel.
Its compulsion
To move forward.
My own innate, sub-conscious, subtle force
Slowly propels me forward.

She fills me with negative thoughts
Desperately attempting to halt my progress.
The light appears as a tiny pinpoint
Then grows as I claw my way forward.
I burst into the light of day
As abruptly as I left it.

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