A Parallel Air Poem by Daniel Brick

Our lives are cluttered
because we let our thoughts
slip from the mind's grasp
before they have closed
the circle of cognition
and they tumble helplessly
into a world of things they
cannot understand. It is perilous
because they are just fragments
in need of a wholeness the world
cannot provide for mental things.
So they latch in to other fragments,
swirling through the air we do not
breathe, a parallel air made of
mind-stuff: incomplete ideas,
lost thoughts, dreams in daylight,
nightmares and memory-blades
which slice open hearts so that
their contents fall in forgetfulness.
Have I not already told you:
these are perils of being human...
Our poor reason, that noble vanguard
of the mind, once considered a crown
of creation, is overwhelmed by all
this spent energy. No wonder then
reason often sleeps and dreams
of the clear thinking that might
turn this disorder into ordered
thoughts. And in its deepest dream
reason touches a calm center
which provides sanctuary...
Oh, what angel or secret map
will show us the way to this calm place?